Dawn
by Star7
Summary: (yaoi - senru - wartime) A young Japanese Captain returns a hero after being wounded in the war. He hides the terrible secrets of his past, finding himself trapped between expectation and reality, between his duty and his soul. Will an encounter with an unlikely young man set him on a path of turmoil, or of peace?
1. The Future - 1974

_The long-promised story requested by Loveless Raine :) it is a thank you gift for everyone who has kindly followed along and reviewed my works. I hope you enjoy the story!_

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><p>#0<p>

**The Future**

**Japan, 1974**

Once the war had been over, when the old house was up for sale, Mrs Yamaguchi had found a small leather-bound notebook in the drawer of the desk in the General's old office.

She'd kept it.

The rest of the past already felt remote and strange. Like a dream she couldn't quite remember. But the General, yes. When she thought of him she remembered him living, breathing, real and alive. A piece of colour in memories long faded to grey.

She liked to run her fingers over the cracked leather spine, and feel the leaves of paper, softened with use.

It was full of his scrawny writing, a mostly nonsensical account of things he'd seen or curiosities he'd noted in the course of the days. True to the nature of the General's mind, taken in isolation, any one of the pages made little sense at all. _Major_ _commented_ _on_ _shoes_ _today.__Prefers shiny._ Or else, _Shortest route to library is via train station._ Mrs Yamaguchi found the notebook curiously charming, though she understood little.

At the back of the book was the most coherent section. A diary of sorts, though without dates or context it seemed more a splattering of recollections. Mrs Yamaguchi referred to it in her mind as _Conversations_ _with_ _Kaede_.

Although Mrs Yamaguchi did not know who Kaede was, she enjoyed reading the General's accounts of him. They reminded her of a time when, despite the war, there had been a prevailing sense of hope, a widely held belief that everything would turn out all right.

She often recalled the last time she had seen the General. Hard to believe it was more than twenty years ago already. He had been standing on the doorstep of his own home, leaving with nothing but a suitcase and the casual clothes he wore. A slight limp in his step. He'd still been a young man, smiling despite everything. Such promise, and such misfortune.

At odd moments she would remember him and his youthful smile, and emotion would rise in her. It was at those times that she would pause in what she was doing, clutch the book to her chest, and close her eyes, wondering where he was now.

-tbc

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><p><em>ANs: Originally written as a one-shot this was far too long to post in one go. I have spilt it into bite-sized chapters and plan to upload one each day. This is the first "multi-chapter" story I've written to completion before posting so the upside is you won't have to wait too long for each new chapter :)<em>

_The request received from Loveless Raine was: _

_*senru  
><em>_*some mitko_  
><em>*WW2 era<em>  
><em>*love story<em>  
><em>*dramatear-jerker_

_I have some thoughts/hang-ups about writing in a WW2 setting and I've tried to explain myself somewhat on my livejournal. If you are interested in knowing where this story came from, you are welcome to check it out (you can find the link on my ffnet profile). Thanks!_


	2. Tokyo Army Hospital - June 1943

**#1**

**Tokyo** **Army** **Hospital,** **Japan**

**June** **1943**

The Tokyo skyline was clouded with unseasonal rain. Flecks of water had coated the window in a film that shattered the outside scene into a billion blurred impressions. Inside the hospital room was nothing but the sad sound of droplets.

Sendoh's fingers twitched into a fist in his lap.

Handsome young captain. Fit, healthy still at the beginning of a promising career, but that was reduced now to memories. His captain's uniform hung in the cupboard. It had been three months, and he still could not walk without the aid of a crutch.

Outwardly alive. The nurses all spoke about him optimistically, but he could see the pity in their eyes. Such a waste. Such a shame.

And the war went on without him. Civilian chatter on the radio. Everything seemed very far away. Beyond his control. It frustrated him.

There came a knock at the door, and it opened before he could respond. A familiar man entered.

His uncle – Toranosuke Sendoh - looked just like his father. A Marshal by rank, he been wearing his full uniform every day since the first mention of an assault on China. His peaked cap was tucked under one arm, his ribbons bright on his breast. A dripping, black umbrella was hooked over his left arm. Too old for active duty he was working now as an advisor to the government.

Toranosuke gave a sharp, enthusiastic salute while Sendoh only stared at him.

"Akira, my boy!" he ignored Sendoh's silence and dispensed with formality by walking forward and seizing his nephew's hand. "I heard, I heard! A second medal of valour – my goodness. Your father would be so proud."

Sendoh's eyes dropped to his lap.

"I don't deserve it," he muttered.

"Nonsense!" Toranosuke enthused. "We all read Major General Sato's recommendation. He had nothing but praise for you. Nothing but praise! Of course it's a shame you had to return to Japan so soon, but considering the circumstances... you saved the life of a great man! You have done your family proud."

Sendoh had to bite his lip. A war hero – that was what Sato had said. _Japan_ _needs_ _heroes_. But it felt every bit like a punishment, just the same.

And every time he closed his eyes, he still saw her. Every time. He hadn't slept without nightmares in months.

"I know, I know," Toranosuke was continuing. "You're unhappy you can't return to the front lines. I was just like you, in my youth. The endless thirst for glory. You're a samurai, through and through, Akira. It's in the blood, you see. And that leg of yours, no doubt it'll heal up in time."

Akira looked up at him blankly, but his uncle continued without noticing.

"But Japan still needs you, you know. In fact, that's the reason I'm here. The government has a mission for us."

Sendoh blinked and leaned forward slightly. It was the first thing that had caught his attention in days. "A mission?"

Toranosuke laughed. "I knew that would get your blood pumping! Have you ever heard of a _conscientious_ _objector_?"

Sendoh shook his head.

"Well," Toranosuke explained, wrinkling his nose in distaste, "they're people who refuse to aid the war effort. Cowards, all of them." He waved a hand as if dispersing a very unpleasant smell. "There's a religious group – the _Soka_ _Gakkai_ Buddhists. Perhaps you've heard of them?"

Sendoh made to shake his head again, but his uncle continued anyway without requiring a response.

"They've been causing a lot of headaches," he explained eagerly. "Many of their followers won't cooperate. The leader is a man named Tsunesaburo Makiguchi. He's holed himself up in a temple over in Oita somewhere. The General has asked us to go and find him, and try to negotiate. All we need from him is a statement in support of the Japanese military action so his followers will come to their senses. Obviously it would be best if all this could be settled amicably – we are all Japanese after all – so we'll go as a diplomatic visit, and see if we can't convince Makiguchi-san to see reason."

"Why do you need me?" Sendoh queried in confusion. He hardly considered himself to be a diplomat.

"Because you are a young war hero!" Toranosuke enthused. "A popular Captain from a long and glorious lineage! You are a perfect ambassador to show others how important the military campaign really is."

_Military_ _campaign_. For a moment his mind was full once again of the smell of human waste, the protruding ribs of starving infants, and her blue, furious eyes.

"We leave a week on Tuesday," Toranosuke concluded, his jovial manner holding out in the face of Sendoh's black expression. "Let's hope your leg improves by then."

~tbc

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><p>Went to see Rurouni Kenshin Kyoto Inferno this week - so amazing! Takeru Sato is just sooooo handsome *gooey puddle* *contented sigh*<p> 


	3. Canton Province - February 1943

**#2**

**Canton** **Province,** **China**

**February** **1943**

The road – if you could call it that - was pocked and rough, so that every few feet, Captain Sendoh Akira was nearly shaken out of his seat. He clutched at his peaked cap with one hand, and clung to the door of the truck with the other. Around, as far as he could see, was nothing but desolation.

Behind the truck, the rest of the convoy rattled along the dirt road in a series of bumps and thumps. The six covered vans each held twenty men who undoubtedly could feel every pebble through the hard, wooden benches. It had been a six hour journey so far, and not a moment of it had been pleasant.

"Not much further, sir. The city should be less than an hour ahead."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

There was evidence of former inhabitation in some of the mud-churned fields. They had already passed the smoking ruins of several small villages. There was occasional scattered debris, or a lifeless body, all of which had taken on the same dull, muddied colour of the ground, so they no longer stood out but were merely part of the miserable war-torn scenery.

"All of the fields have been destroyed," Sendoh remarked. "How are they feeding the troops?"

"The Chinese have some stores we have been using, Captain."

"Then what do the Chinese eat?"

The driver – Lieutenant Myagi – did not look away from the road. "Mostly nothing, sir."

"Damn."

Forty minutes later they pulled into what Myagi had described as the city, but which appeared more like a wasteland. Their convoy were the only vehicles on the road. Semi-abandoned buildings faced out with every other window shattered, and a few fearful faces peered out at them as they passed. Barbed wire ran the length of the road along with the wrecked remains of stalls, piles of refuse, and everywhere the overbearing smell of decay. Even the sky looked sick and grey. Flags – those of Japan, and of the Japanese Imperial Army - hung limp from every surface.

Who would be so proud as to command a sick ghost-town like this? Sendoh wondered to himself.

A group of wretched children, each thin and crudely dressed in soiled clothes, were kicking a broken stick around in the road. Myagi pressed the horn aggressively, and they scattered.

When they pulled up at the Japanese Army Headquarters, the Major General was there to greet them as Sendoh climbed down from the car.

"Captain Sendoh," he acknowledged with a short bow, to which Sendoh responded with a neat click of his heels and a sharp salute. "I see you have arrived in one piece. No bandits on the road, I hope."

"None, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Take your ease, Captain."

Sendoh lowered his hand, and looked curiously at the man before him. Major-General Sato was of average height, with a thin face and intelligent eyes partially hidden behind circular horn-rimmed spectacles. His uniform was meticulously arranged, every button shining, boots freshly polished. It seemed as if the war's creeping decay had not reached him at all.

"Welcome to Canton," the Major began. "We have a modest encampment here. Since Hong Kong fell last year, our position has been very secure - but I'm sure you're already aware of that. Our only concerns are small-scale banditry and piecemeal guerilla activity. We are conducting some very important research here. It is important that we continue with as little interruption as possible."

"My men and I look forward to the opportunity to further Japan's cause," Sendoh replied swiftly.

"Excellent. There is board for your men in the Eastern camp. The drivers know where to go. In the meantime, I will show you around headquarters."

"Thank you, sir."

Sendoh turned back towards the vans – a few of his troops were were peeking curious faces out of the back – and gestured them to move on. Immediately the engines rumbled and the vans pulled away, back out the gates through which they'd come.

He looked up at the building which served as headquarters. It was a fine old house of three storeys, probably the finest in the city. The previous residents had been expelled to make room for the Japanese Military officers, and the once-lush Chinese gardens at the front were now the habitat of dry, dead plants, broken pots and dust. The garden walls had been reinforced with sand bags and barbed wire, and an armed guard was stationed at each side of the gate. Sendoh couldn't help but imagine that it must have been a beautiful place before war had arrived on its doorstep.

"Can't say I care for this Chinese architecture," the Major-General grumbled as he led him inside.

Map room. Meeting room. Quartermaster. Communications. Logistics. The Major-General led Sendoh quickly through the building, and then showed him to the officer's quarters, located in a hastily erected wood structure behind the main house. Myagi had already brought Sendoh's trunk through to what was to be his office room.

"You mentioned... research?" Sendoh queried as they concluded their tour and made for the front of the building again. "I don't recall reading about research in the official documentation."

"No?" The Major-General smiled broadly, "Research is the major purpose of our occupation here. Unit 8604 is one of the primary branches of The Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department." He gestured vaguely towards the city. "Most of our work is done at the medical university. I will take you there later, but first we should eat something."

Food was the furthest thing from Sendoh's mind, but he followed Sato obediently into the dining room.

The officer's kitchen did a fine job of laying out the kind of meal Sendoh had not seen in two years. He stared at the copious amount of meat, vegetable, even sauce and sake set on the table before him and lifted his eyes to Sato questioningly.

"I thought there was a supply shortage," he queried.

"There are good days and bad days," the Major-General responded with a resigned shrug, and poured out sake for each of them.

Sendoh accepted his cup, and took an uncertain sip.

"I heard you gained your promotion – and a medal of honour – in the Battle at Han River," the Major-General commented as they began the meal. "An impressive feat, given the extraordinary mess it was. I expect it helps to come from a military family like yours."

Sendoh lifted his eyes. "It was a mess, certainly. After we received orders to retreat, I had to lead my men through unknown enemy jungle for two weeks before we reached a Japanese outpost. We lived off nothing but rats and beetles."

Sato let out a laugh. "Gosh, how horrible. I shouldn't think I'm cut out for that kind of thing. I'm a physician, not a foot soldier. Well, you can relax. City garrison is nothing like that sort of field work. There are still rats around though, if you find you have the taste for them."

Sendoh gave a tepid smile, set down his cup, and said nothing.

~tbc

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><p>Well, what a difference a day makes! What can I say? Yesterday I casually uploaded the previous chapter, today our city is in chaos with police violently suppressing our peaceful protesters - many of whom are school students. If the media in your country hasn't covered the events in Hong Kong, I hope you will take the opportunity to see for yourself! Starry x<p> 


	4. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943

#3

**Rakan-ji** **Temple,** **Oita** **Prefecture**

**Late** **June** **1943**

The motorcar took them as far up the mountain as the road would go, but at the drop off point they were still a good three hundred metres below the temple. Broad steps flanked by stone lanterns led steeply up through scrawny, mountain-grown trees. Sendoh struggled out of the vehicle, leaning heavily on his sword. He, his uncle, and the two accompanying privates, all wore full military dress which was heavy and hot in the June sun. Their trunks were brought down from the roof of the car, and they were left to face the climb.

Private Mitsui reached over to help take Sendoh's bag, but Sendoh warned him away with a fierce glare and took it up himself. Toranosuke was looking over at him in some concern.

"It seems we'll have to take the stairs. Captain, do you think you can..."

"I'll be fine," Sendoh replied, a little more sharply than he meant to, and using his sword as a crutch, began the arduous task of dragging his still-worthless right leg up the mountainside, trying to balance the trunk in his left hand.

Around him he saw rock and mountain. Some ugly trees. An unbearable sun. Weren't temples meant to be idyllic places? Balance and beauty? Already he disliked the place. There was something lopsided and unpleasant about it. Not to mention, the noise of the cicada was deafening.

After nearly an hour of slow progress, during which he'd determinedly refused all offers of assistance, they still had a way to go. As they came around a bend in the trees, they met a young monk in dark robes standing to one side of the stairs, waiting for them. An angular straw hat kept the sun from his face, although he tilted it upwards to observe the army representatives as they climbed up towards him. His face was warm and gentle and his eyes bright and clear. He looked completely unlike them in his loose, comfortable garments and prayer beads, at such odds with stiff uniforms, swords and badges.

He bowed as they reached him, not in an official, angular way, but in a loose and easy show of respect. He also reached forward and took Sendoh's trunk straight from his hand without a second thought. He neither seemed to care for Sendoh's self-sufficient pride, nor took any notice of the dark looks the young Captain responded with.

"Good afternoon, Marshal, Captain, Privates," he nodded to each of them. "We have been expecting you. My name is Kogure, I will show you to the temple."

There was something disturbingly frank about the boy, Sendoh decided. Too naïve. Too pure. He didn't seem quite right. Then again, maybe it was Sendoh's fault. The war had left him jaded.

They took the rest of the stairs.

By the time they reached the level of the temple, they were all sweating profusely, and Sendoh mopped his brow and the back of his neck with a handkerchief stored in his breast pocket. He longed to get out of his heavy uniform, but had the feeling his uncle would not approve. In any case, he didn't have time to refresh himself as the man they were to meet – Tsunesaburo Makiguchi – was already waiting for them at the temple gate.

The young monk Kogure make quick introductions, and the two sides bowed to one another.

Unlike Kogure, Makiguchi was not wearing the habit of a monk. He was dressed in a western suit, well-tailored and business-like. He did not, Sendoh felt, resemble much of a Buddhist leader. He was also older than Sendoh had expected. Sixty, perhaps seventy. There was care worn into the wrinkles around his eyes.

"Welcome," he said amicably. "You are most welcome, all of you. I am sorry the abbot cannot be here to welcome you himself, he is overseeing the afternoon prayer, and as you know I am also only a guest of his. Still, I hope I shall be able to show you something of Rakan-ji. She will prove to be a soothing place, I hope, for ones such as yourselves."

"We are not here on a spiritual purpose, Makiguchi-san," Toranosuke replied guardedly.

"No?" The man smiled warmly. "Yet everything we do must influence our spirit, whether good or bad," he gestured with his hand. "You look quite warm in this hot sun. Do let me show you where you can refresh yourselves."

Sendoh hadn't taken two steps forward when a metallic ring sounded a little way down the mountain steps behind them. He looked curiously over his shoulder, but saw only the top of the stairs, and the dark, oppressive tress.

A moment passed, and the sound came again, accompanied this time by a quiet footfall. Sendoh furrowed his brow, watching the path. Gradually a second monk climbed into view. First the tip of a straw hat, a broad-rimmed circular pyramid much like Kogure's which covered his face. Then a white tunic and white sleeves visible beneath a traditional dark grey outer robe. A belt of dark cloth was wrapped about his waist so that the linen clung close to his body.

In his right hand he carried a _shakujo_, a long, sturdy pole topped with rings of metal which clanged together with every step he took. His smooth forearms were visible under the gaping bell of his wide sleeves, and the hand that grasped the pole securely was long-fingered and elegant.

Noticing the presence of the army officials ahead of him, the monk stopped at the top of the stairs, planting the base of his shakujo firmly in the ground. With his left hand he reached up and tilted up the brim of his straw hat curiously.

Sendoh sucked in his breath in unpleasant surprise.

The blue eyes that fixed on him sent him hurtling backwards, straight back into the fog of war. Suddenly it was everywhere. He could smell it. That place. Those horrors. Like it was around him, physical and irremovable. Her face - butterfly eyes. The blood, on the ground, in the air, his sword - soaked in it.

He staggered where he stood, dropping the sword like it had burnt him, bringing his hand up to clutch at his heart to stop it pounding. He felt dizzy and sick. Strong hands caught hold of his arm to steady him, and he looked blurredly into the concerned face of Private Mitsui.

"Quickly," he heard Toranosuke say to Makiguchi, "Captain Sendoh is not well. It must be this unbearable heat."

He looked dazedly back towards the stairs, but the monk had already moved on. The ringing of his steps was gradually fading away.

They took Sendoh into the shade of the temple.

Sitting down to rest, he had the semblance to feel shame over his weakness. Makiguchi pressed a warm cup of green tea into his hands, sweetened slightly with honey, and poured another for Toranosuke. The two privates stood to attention away to the side. Mitsui was still holding Sendoh's sword, but he passed it back as soon as Sendoh met his eye.

"Well now," Makiguchi seemed unaffected by Sendoh's small turn. "That's better. How do you like the temple?"

Sendoh took a tentative sip from the cup, and then let his eyes sweep around him, giving the place his attention. The temple had been built right into a cave in the mountainside, casting it into cool, damp shade. It was a simple structure built of dark woods – certainly not one of the larger temples. It seemed a little dilapidated. The edge of the roof, for example, had warped as if affected by the moisture. To the right and the left, across the temple's front, the mountain path continued, and Sendoh could see stone monuments and a number of mossy Buddha statues left in irregular groups on rocks and ledges. Behind and above the temple, the mountain stretched upwards towards the sky, mostly rocky cliff-face and low shrubs, with only occasional trees. Before them, however, the valley was laid majestically, like a carpet of green over the surrounding peaks.

A small village, barely a collection of houses at the base of the mountain, were the only buildings in sight. The blast of cicada noise had not ceased from the moment they had stepped out of the car, but now it was joined by the twittering of wild songbirds, the warm buzzing of insects, and the occasional drip of water from the humidity laden leaves.

At their back, within the cool, shadowy temple, the great golden Buddhas looked out upon this paradise. Piles of offered fruit filled the room with summer sweetness. Sendoh felt himself abruptly like an intruder upon the scenery of the enlightened.

He felt momentarily awed. This was a vista indeed.

"Very nice," Sendoh heard his uncle reply dismissively, swatting at an insect that had landed on his sleeve. "The view is... pretty."

"The steps continue up the mountain," the old man Makiguchi gestured with his hand towards the left. "I am told the view is well worth the climb, but at my age-" he chuckled and patted his legs, "-I have learnt to be content with the beauty within my reach."

Sendoh turned his eyes in the direction the man had gestured, and saw steep stairs leading up through the shrubbery. All at once he became aware that his right leg was aching intensely. He did not feel as if he could ever climb another step. Whatever view was up there, he felt quite profoundly, it was not meant for him.

~tbc

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><p>Tomorrow we shall be going to join in with the protests! If there is no story update you may assume I am either in hospital or jail (and I'm only half joking...lol...)<p> 


	5. A Page From The General's Notebook

**#4**

**A ****Page ****From ****The ****General's ****Notebook**

_Kaede_ _had_ _wanted_ _to_ _know_ _why_ _I'd_ _joined_ _the_ _army,_ _so_ _I_ _told_ _him_ _about_ _my_ _family._

_Most_ _people_ _know_ _that_ _my_ _father_ _had_ _been_ _a_ _General,_ _but_ _in_ _fact_ _my_ _Grandfather,_ _and_ _his_ _Grandfather_ _before_ _him,__were all_ _military_ _officers._ _Our_ _family __is_ _an_ _old_ _one, __with roots_ _tracing_ _back_ _through_ _history._ _You_ _can_ _find_ _the_ _name_ _Sendoh_ _in_ _any_ _book_ _on_ _the_ _Meiji_ _Restoration,_ _the_ _arrival_ _of_ _the_ _Black_ _Ships,_ _even_ _as_ _far_ _back_ _as_ _the_ _Honno-ji_ _incident._ _We __are_ _a_ _long_ _line_ _of_ _samurai, warriors_ _and_ _military_ _men._ _Being_ _an_ _officer_ _in_ _the_ _army,_ _for_ _me, __wasn't_ _a_ _matter_ _of_ _choice,_ _in_ _the_ _way_ _that_ _waking_ _up_ _each_ _morning,_ _eating_ _and_ _breathing __aren't_ _matters_ _of_ _choice._ _It_ _was_ _simply... __expected._

_He'd_ _noticed,_ _of_ _course,_ _that_ _the_ _Marshal_ _had_ _the_ _same_ _surname_ _as_ _me._ _He_ _wanted_ _to_ _know_ _if_ _we_ _were_ _related._

"_Yes,__" __I_ _told_ _him,__ "__he's_ _my_ _uncle._ _My_ _father's_ _brother.__"_

_I_ _told_ _him_ _more_ _about_ _the __old house_ _in_ _Tokyo_ _too._ _Our_ _ancestral_ _home,_ _now_ _mine_ _of_ _course._ _When_ _I_ _told_ _him_ _how_ _large_ _it_ _was,_ _he_ _didn't_ _believe_ _me._ _He'd_ _only ever_ _seen_ _the_ _small_ _huts_ _in_ _the_ _village_ _at_ _the_ _base_ _of_ _the_ _mountain._

_I_ _recalled_ _it_ _fondly_ _when_ _I_ _spoke_ _of_ _it_ _though._ _I'd_ _spent_ _most_ _of_ _my_ _school_ _years_ _boarding_ _at_ _military_ _school,_ _and_ _the_ _feeling_ _of_ _coming_ _home_ _in_ _the_ _summer_ _was_ _still_ _spectacular_ _to_ _me._ _Even_ _now,_ _after_ _years_ _of_ _touring_ _the_ _world,_ _away_ _for_ _months_ _at_ _a_ _time,_ _I_ _always_ _feel_ _that_ _same_ _thrill_ _of_ _coming_ _home._

_I_ _tried_ _to_ _explain_ _it_ _to_ _him,_ _but_ _he_ _was_ _always_ _so_ _very_ _different_ _from_ _me._ _A_ _trapped_ _and_ _restless_ _spirit._ _I_ _don't_ _think_ _he_ _ever_ _really_ _understood._

~tbc

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><p>Some chapters are long. Some chapters are short. What can I say? :)<p> 


	6. Canton Province - February 1943 - Part 2

**#5**

**Canton Province, China**

**February 1943**

After the meal, as promised, Major General Sato arranged for a car to take them across the city to the research site. For the entire journey, Sendoh could feel his stomach churning uncomfortably as it struggled to cope with the unfamiliar rich food. He was interested in seeing more of the city, although most of it looked much the same. All greyness and hunger and brutality. They rarely saw anyone out and about, but every person they did pass had the same haunted look in their eyes. Nothing was soft here.

The university appeared just as cold and empty as everywhere else. It was a long, low building with a central covered entranceway. The car pulled up directly to the front, and the Major General eagerly led the way inside.

At the door, a doctor dressed in a white coat passed them each an object that looked like a gas mask. The place stank, and Sendoh was grateful to put it on. It covered his face entirely, with just a perspex screen for looking out, and a protruding filter that gave him the look of having a trunk.

Curiously, he looked around. It was dark – it seemed the electrics were unreliable. There were stains on the floor, and a cockroach scuttled up the wall nearby. It had the air of an abandoned building lost to squalor.

The Major General led him down a corridor towards the right. "This is where we are conducting research into inanition," he explained, his voice slightly muffled through the filter. They had stopped in front of a series of rooms, each of which contained a man, woman, or child. A couple of Japanese scientists were marking observations down at a control desk. "These ones have been in for about two weeks now." He gestured, "You can see the effects of malnutrition are becoming more extensive."

Sendoh took in the sight of the emaciated bodies. Hollow cheeks and weak eyes stared blankly he passed. The food he had just eaten threatened to rise up once again, and he desperately tried to swallow his disgust.

"You're... starving them?" he queried, mystified. "But they're... just civilians."

Sato gave a sympathetic chuckle. "I am a man of science, Captain," he replied, spreading his hands. "And this is research. Please don't think I take any pleasure in their suffering..." he shook his head solemnly. "...but they are contributing to a worthy cause."

Sendoh could bare no more than a passing glance at the subjects before turning his eyes back to the Major who nodded encouragingly.

"We have made several breakthroughs in the last two months. It has been a very satisfying series of experiments. The knowledge we glean will benefit future generations. Now," he gestured further down the corridor with his hand, "we perform the vivisections down this way. We are very proud of our surgical team. The task can be very trying at times, physically and emotionally, but we do our best."

Sendoh held up a hand to stop him. He could not even begin to imagine the expression his face must have been making under the mask, and was glad Sato could not see it. He tried to wipe at the cold sweat that seemed to have drenched him.

"Yes?" The man prompted, as if expecting Sendoh to be impressed.

"Major General," he spoke out, trying to keep his voice under control, "I'm a little confused. These subjects they are... criminals?"

Sato laughed. "Criminals, yes. Of course. Enemies of Japan!"

Sendoh stared at him blankly, and Sato, finally seeming to notice his bewilderment, turned serious.

"Our research is _essential_ Captain. Do I wish there were another way? Of course I do. But you see..." he spread his hands despairingly, "...there _is_ no other way. I do understand your surprise and your concern, naturally. But you are a soldier – a man of blood and battle. I am a physician, a scientist. I hope you will trust me and my judgement in these matters. The General has granted me full authority over the proceedings here, after all."

Sendoh did not look through the doors again.

"I... understand," he replied, working to keep his voice level. "I have heard much praise for your scientific advancements. And, of course, the General's high regard for you."

Sato smiled brightly.

"That is certainly good to know. I must say, I was a little concerned that you would be somewhat headstrong, what with being from the Sendoh family and all. I'm glad that's not the case."

Sendoh managed a salute. "Thank you Major General. If you have no objection, I should like to go and see whether my men have settled into camp."

Sato nodded. "Yes, of course. You are naturally concerned for your men." He gestured with a hand to return back down the stairs. "Let us go and view the camp."

"Thank you, sir."

Once the Major General had left him close to the troop's quarters, Sendoh stepped out of sight behind one of the huts. His hands were shaking, and his face was grey. He clutched his stomach and was sick onto the churned mud. Rich food splattered over the ground.

As a seasoned solider it took a lot turn his stomach nowadays, but the blank, staring eyes at the university had lodged permanently into his psyche.

_What_ _is_ _this_ _hell?_ He wondered, leaning against the wooden hut tiredly. _Is_ _this_ _what_ _we_ _are_ _fighting_ _for?_ _Is_ _this_ _what_ _my_ _men_ _have_ _been_ _dying_ _for?_

He lifted his eyes to the stagnant sky, and stared at the grey clouds which refused to move.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Believe it or not I've had to dumb down the atrocities committed in China because the true is quite surreal and almost unbelievable. If you are interested to learn more, you can start by researching Unit 731, of which Sato's Unit 8604 formed a branch.<p>

Sorry this chapter is a little late in the day. I have been "patrolling" the barricades today! We've watched the police stockpiling tear gas and rubber bullets and expect that tonight will be a turning point for better or worse so I hope you will keep up with the news (the eyes of the world is the only thing protecting us right now!)


	7. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943 -Part 2

**#6**  
><strong>Rakan-ji Temple<br>****Late June 1943**

The following morning arrived even before the sun rose as the cicadas sensed the rising heat and launched into noisy song. Toranosuke cursed as he rolled out of bed in the dim pre-dawn light.

"I doubt I will ever sleep peacefully in this place," he grumbled irritably.

Sendoh, who in fact felt surprisingly rested, did not respond. His dreams had been filled with night insects, instead of wartime horrors.

They both wiped face, neck and body with damp flannels and dressed again in their uniforms before heading out to the front of the temple.

Makiguchi was waiting for them, once again dressed crisply in a light grey suit without a tie, and comfortable black shoes. He greeted them cheerfully as they approached, opening his palms in a welcoming gesture.

"Marshal, Captain, I hope you both slept well."

"The insects woke us," Toranosuke explained. "I can't imagine how anyone can sleep through that noise."

"We rise early," Makiguchi revealed, a little apologetically. "For morning prayer. But now – have you an agenda for today?"

"Perhaps you can tell me a little more about the Soka Gakkai," Toranosuke prompted. "I am interested to hear more about your ideas regarding military action."

"Certainly," Makiguchi replied, smiling peaceably. He turned his eyes towards Sendoh, "And yourself, Captain?"

Sendoh blinked and looked uncertainly towards his uncle. He had assumed he would simply join them for the discussion. Makiguchi noticed his hesitation, and chuckled.

"A youngster like you doesn't want to spend time in the company of old men!" Makiguchi exclaimed cheerfully, to which Toranosuke looked like he wanted to protest. "Why don't you explore the temple? You can meet some of the monks. There are some famous caves further down the path. I can ask Kogure to show you around..."

"Ah," Sendoh held up his hands. "No, please, don't trouble him. I can explore by myself."

"As you wish," Makiguchi smiled and watched him with warm expectancy. Sendoh, feeling oddly as though he had been gently dismissed, gave his parting bows, and set off uncertainly by himself.

Not knowing where to go he headed first for the now-familiar main hall where they had sat yesterday. There he peered in through the archways to see the three golden Buddhas, the heart of the temple. No one seemed to be around, so he moved closer to look into their glittering faces, leaning across the wooden barrier that separated him from the sacred space. Expressions of joviality and serenity looked blankly back at him, but they were hand crafted like masks. He waited, but saw no stirring behind the metallic eyes. No proof that something sacred existed in this space.

He retreated from the barrier and, feeling a dull pang in his thigh, went to sit on one of the low cushioned stools meant for kneeling. The silence was not unpleasant, and he even closed his eyes experimentally, breathing in the dying trails of incense that floated in from the bronze pots outside. The singing insects accompanied his quietness and the world seemed restful.

He stirred at the sound of voices drifting through the air. He blinked his eyes open blearily and was surprised to find himself still sitting in the main hall, his chin slumped against his chest, where he had begun to doze. A moment, and the voices sounded again, this time he realised they were coming from beyond a closed screen door away to the right.

"You missed morning prayer... again!" an angry person could be heard, muffled by the distance. It seemed that one of the monks was being scolded by the abbot, the confrontation breaking the serene silence of the Buddha's sacred space. Sendoh glanced at the statues and raised an eyebrow as if sharing a joke with them. It seemed a little ironic that the monks themselves should cause such a disturbance.

"Prayer. Routine. Meditation. That is the route to enlightenment!"

The murmured reply from the chastened monk was too low for Sendoh to hear, but it did not invoke a positive response from the abbot.

"Foolishness!" Sendoh heard him exclaim, his voice even louder than before. "Such arrogance! You'll attend the afternoon prayers if you have any intention of remaining at this monastery!"

Heavy feet rapidly began to approach but Sendoh didn't have time to even stand up before the screen door was pushed aside to reveal the monk in question still wearing an expression of tight-lipped fury. He carried a platter of fresh fruits in one hand, and strode swiftly into the hall, ignoring Sendoh completely. Approaching the altar of offerings, he began to rapidly exchange the altar's old, wilting fruit with new, fresher pieces. Soon the whole place was full of the sweet scents of tangerines and gourd apples.

When finished, the monk dropped the now-empty platter near the abbot's door with a careless, noisy clang, and moved as if to storm out of the hall. He made it as far as the door frame before pausing. After a moment of consideration he turned back, putting his hands together at his forehead and making a deep bow to the sacred statues, muttering incantations rapidly under his breath. Then he straightened, turned on his heel, and was gone.

Before he knew what he was doing, Sendoh had risen quickly to his feet.

Too quickly. "Ah!" he exclaimed, clutching his own thigh as a sharp stab of pain hit him. It was enough to make his eyes water, and he cursed himself and his injury furiously under his breath.

The tall, blue-eyed monk was of course the one he'd seen climb the stairs yesterday. He was struck again with curiosity. His eyes – yes. But more than that. Arguing with the abbot? What sort of a monk did that? He found himself hurrying out of the temple after him.

The slope outside the main hall led up the mountain towards the residential structures. It wasn't particularly steep, but with the pain in his leg Sendoh could do little but hobble. The monk was already some metres ahead. His long, swift strides were impossible for Sendoh to match.

"Hey-!" he heard himself call out. "Hey! Wait!"

The monk stopped and turned back towards him. The irritated flash of his blue eyes was obvious despite the distance.

Sendoh was suddenly aware that he really didn't know what to say next. He clutched his pained thigh and gestured the boy back to him with a hand. Reluctantly the monk complied.

He was wearing the same linen habit as yesterday, although today he had neither hat nor staff. His white sleeves were a little short, only reaching mid-forearm, and he had a habit of pushing them up to his elbows, out of the way. His dark grey tunic was sleeveless, and reached his knees below which fitted white fabric reached down to his bare feet in sandals. Simple, yet somehow elegant, which left Sendoh wishing, not for the first time, that he could wear something other than his officer's clothes.

The monk's eyes moved over his uniform, although if he thought it strange to see a soldier here, he didn't show it. Finally his eyes met Sendoh's in question.

Sendoh swallowed and pushed his damp fringe out of his eyes.

"Er-" he began, "I'm Capt- that is – I'm Sendoh Akira. I'm visiting the monastery with the Marshal. To talk. To Makiguchi-san."

The monk only stared levelly back at him. It was a little unnerving. He seemed to be asking – _and what's that got to do with me_?

"And... you are?" Sendoh eventually prompted when it became obvious the monk had no intention of speaking.

"Rukawa Kaede," was the short reply.

Sendoh hesitated. _How unfriendly!_ Aloud he said, "I understand there are some – er – famous caves here. I was looking for someone who could show me the way."

The monk looked thoroughly disinterested. He folded his arms across his chest, eyeing Sendoh from behind his long fringe. "Down the path," he replied curtly and indicated with the smallest flicker of his eyes the path at Sendoh's back.

Sendoh straightened up slightly. "Perhaps you could show me?" he insisted.

The monk gave a minute roll of his eyes.

Sendoh waited.

"...this way," Rukawa finally mumbled impatiently, and set off down the path, not checking to see if Sendoh was following.

_What am I doing?_ Sendoh wondered vaguely to himself as he set off after him. _Caves? Really?_

They marched down the sloping path one behind the other in silence until they came to the first cave in question. It was almost like a tour except the guide didn't bother to volunteer any information. Rukawa simply stopped by the entrance with his arms folded, apparently waiting for Sendoh to look inside. Instead, Sendoh found himself looking at the boy.

"Aren't monks supposed to shave their heads?" he suddenly blurted, earning himself the boy's attention. Unfortunately the look that was directed his way was thoroughly contemptuous.

"Razors – all metals – are in short supply. There's a war, apparently."

"Oh," Sendoh quirked an eyebrow, and decided it was better to just ignore the sarcasm. "Is that allowed?"

"Allowed?" Rukawa repeated back to him, as if he didn't know what the word meant.

Sendoh nodded, "I mean, isn't it against the rules?"

"You misunderstand the purpose of rules," Rukawa replied shortly, and then turned away. "The next cave is this way."

Sendoh furrowed his eyebrows and moved as quickly as he could to keep up with Rukawa's long strides. "What do you mean?" he persisted. "Rules are rules, aren't they?"

Rukawa merely looked at him and gave a small, disdainful shake of his head.

Sendoh frowned deeply. _How difficult!_

At the mouth of the next cave – filled from front to back with miniature carved Buddhas – Sendoh considered asking something safe, such as the origins of the statues. Instead he found himself asking;

"And do you agree with Makiguchi-san's opinion on the war? His policy of pacifism?"

"We are not pacifists," Rukawa replied without even looking at him.

Sendoh straightened up determinedly. He'd rehearsed this part in his head.

"But surely you can see that Makiguchi is creating divisions among our people? He turns Japanese against Japanese. We all must stand together. Every other Buddhist sect has fully supported the government's actions. They all understand that this war will bring Japan the peace that we all desire."

The words didn't sound quite right in his mouth. It was the sort of stuff his uncle liked to say; a formal tongue that didn't belong to him. There followed a moment of silence in which Sendoh felt embarrassed by the way his voice had been too loud. Rukawa did not seem riled by his words, although when he spoke, his eyes were dark.

"You speak of things - Buddhists, government, Japanese..." he fixed Sendoh with a stare. "These things do not exist."

"What? Of course they-"

"You don't understand."

It was said very finally, as if the matter was closed.

Sendoh bristled. He opened his mouth, intending to rebuke this ridiculousness, but suddenly found himself blinded by the fierce blue eyes that were fixed on him.

_Butterflies._

All words were gone. A second passed. Two. It was her. Her and her severed head and her broken blue eyes and all those nightmares that had followed him for months.

What did he know? The way Rukawa looked at him then made him feel as if he didn't understand anything at all.

Rukawa turned away.

"The day is getting hot," he said, and began to lead the way back up the mountain. "Let's return."

Sendoh waited a second, the moment slowly fading from him, and then he too turned back up the mountain path.

They walked in silence.

At the front of the temple, no one was to be seen.

"Makiguchi-san and the Marshal will be in the Sutra room. It is the coolest place at this time of day," Rukawa gestured past the main temple entrance. "Through there."

He turned away to leave.

"Won't you join us?" Sendoh felt obliged to offer for the sake of politeness. Truth be told the idea of this jaded and difficult personality in the same room as his uncle was inconsiderable. Not to mention the relentless stare of those awful blue eyes.

Rukawa shook his head. "At this time of day, I always climb the mountain."

Sendoh felt relieved.

"What for?"

"To meditate."

"But it's so hot!"

"Again, you misunderstand."

Sendoh scowled this time. "What do I misunderstand?" he demanded.

"I do not choose to take this road because it is an easy one," Rukawa responded coldly.

Sendoh watched as he left. The upright stance of his back, his elegant feet placed one before the other with barely a sound. The mountain path he climbed, which was quite beyond Sendoh's reach.

He felt like he'd been outmatched somehow. He scowled to nothing in particular. The feeling bothered him greatly.

~tbc

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><p><strong>Mrsklemzak<strong>: Thanks for your comments. No, this fic isn't influenced by current events in HK/China (I've actually been in the process of writing it for over a year! Long before the current demonstrations came to a head.) It's based on the history of the Japanese occupation during WW2. I have written down my extended author's notes on my livejournal (link on my profile, if are you interested).


	8. A Page From The General's Notebook - 2

**#7**

**A ****Page ****From ****The ****General's Notebook**

_The_ _first_ _day_ _I_ _met_ _Kaede_ _he_ _told_ _me_ _that_ _I_ _didn't_ _understand_ _the_ _nature_ _of_ _rules._ _I_ _didn't_ _understand_ _what_ _he_ _meant,_ _but_ _I_ _didn't_ _know_ _him_ _well_ _then,_ _and_ _he_ _certainly_ _wasn't_ _interested_ _in_ _talking_ _with_ _me._

_I_ _didn't_ _ask_ _him_ _about_ _it_ _again_ _until_ _later._

_He_ _replied_ _with_ _the_ _sort_ _of_ _questions_ _I_ _always_ _took_ _far_ _too_ _literally._ _I_ _did_ _have_ _a_ _tendency_ _to_ _think_ _him_ _more_ _simplistic_ _than_ _he_ _actually_ _was._ _I_ _remember_ _how,_ _at_ _first,_ _I_ _used_ _to_ _feel_ _as_ _if_ _I_ _were_ _explaining_ _things_ _to_ _a_ _child._ _There_ _was_ _so_ _much,_ _I_ _felt,_ _he_ _just_ _didn't_ _know._ _Basic_ _things._ _It_ _wasn't_ _until_ _later_ _I_ _began_ _to_ _see_ _that_ _it_ _was_ _I_ _who_ _was_ _overly_ _simplistic._ _I_ _was_ _blind_ _to_ _the_ _higher_ _arches_ _from_ _which_ _he_ _looked_ _out_ _over_ _the_ _world_ _and_ _recognised_ _it_ _for_ _what_ _it_ _was - nonsense._

_But_ _he_ _asked_ _me..._ _what_ _was_ _the_ _purpose_ _of_ _rules?_

_Of_ _course_ _I_ _arrogantly_ _explained_ _to_ _him_ _that_ _rules_ _benefited_ _the_ _larger_ _community_ _by_ _ensuring_ _that_ _individuals_ _acted_ _in_ _a_ _manner_ _that_ _was_ _beneficial_ _for_ _all__ –_ _particularly_ _when_ _the_ _larger_ _effects_ _of_ _one's_ _actions_ _were_ _not_ _immediately_ _obvious._

_I_ _gave_ _him_ _some_ _foolish_ _example_ _involving_ _shooting_ _ducks_ _in_ _the_ _woods._ _I_ _explained_ _that_ _by_ _limiting_ _how_ _many_ _people_ _could_ _shoot_ _ducks,_ _and_ _at_ _what_ _time_ _of_ _year,_ _the_ _population_ _of_ _ducks_ _was_ _thereby_ _maintained_ _so_ _that_ _there_ _would_ _always_ _be_ _ducks_ _to_ _shoot._

_I_ _remember_ _he_ _didn't_ _understand_ _why_ _people_ _would_ _want_ _to_ _kill_ _ducks._

_He_ _asked_ _me_ _too,_ _who_ _made_ _the_ _rules?_

_I_ _told_ _him_ _that_ _it_ _was_ _law-makers,_ _governors,_ _city_ _officials_ _and_ _politicians_ _who_ _made_ _the_ _rules._

_Then_ _he_ _asked_ _me:_ _how_ _did_ _they_ _know?_

_I_ _didn't_ _understand_ _the_ _question_ _at_ _first._

_He_ _continued;_ _how_ _did_ _they_ _know_ _what_ _rules_ _to_ _make?_ _How_ _did_ _they_ _know_ _that_ _their_ _rules_ _were_ _really_ _fair?_ _Really_ _beneficial?_ _How_ _did _**I**_ know_ _that_ _their_ _rules_ _were_ _fair?_ _Why_ _would_ _I_ _trust_ _a_ _law-maker's_ _remote_ _and_ _external_ _ideas_ _over_ _and_ _above_ _my_ _own_ _moral_ _sense_ _of_ _right_ _and_ _wrong_ _in_ _any_ _immediate_ _moment? Surely there was no way the rules could take every possible situation into account?_

_His_ _questions that_ _seemed_ _at_ _first_ _so_ _simple,_ _so_ _childlike_ _and_ _naive,_ _always_ _left_ _me_ _utterly_ _exhausted_ _in_ _the_ _attempt_ _to_ _answer_ _them._

_Finally_ _he_ _wanted_ _to_ _know_ _what_ _I_ _would_ _do_ _if_ _I_ _came_ _across_ _an_ _exception_ _to_ _a_ _rule?_

_I_ _had_ _no_ _answer_ _to_ _give_ _him_ _except_ _my_ _guilty_ _silence._

_~tbc_

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><p>Thanks for the kind reviews you have posted :) They are like water to a parched man! x<p> 


	9. Canton Province - March 1943

**#8**

**Canton Province, China**

**March 1943**

"Come in," Sendoh called in response to the rap at his door. He glanced up from the telegrams scattered across his desk to see Lieutenant Myagi standing in the door frame. Myagi saluted, and Sendoh gestured for him to sit.

"May I speak... freely, sir?"

Sendoh set down his pen and stared at the man on the opposite side of the desk. Myagi looked nervous, he noticed. Uncomfortable. It was unusual. They had known each other for years.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

Myagi nodded, and then swallowed.

"It's about the university, sir."

"You mean the Major General's research centre?"

Myagi leaned forward in his seat and lowered his voice. "The men are spooked, sir. There's been a lot of talk, a lot of whispering. It's not good for morale."

Sendoh lifted one brow. "As far as I'm aware, none of our men have any direct contact with the place."

"It's the screaming, sir. You can hear it from the camp. And when the wind blows the right way you can smell it too."

"We've all seen worse, Lieutenant. Prisoner camps are a sorry fact of war."

"But with all respect this _isn't_ a camp, Captain. Everyone's heard the stories out of Shanghai. The zombies. Men without arms, women with their heads sewn on backwards, the gangrene experiments. The men are all talking about it."

Sendoh leant back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to tell me that the men are afraid of a few ghost stories? And you call yourselves soldiers?"

"But Captain..."

Sendoh held up a hand. "It is not a matter up for discussion. Major General Sato has full authority in this district, and the work he is doing is of great scientific value. If the men spent more time preparing for their patrols rather than gossiping about nonsense, we might not have lost Hiroshi and Nobu last week."

Myagi looked immediately chastened. It had been an unfair comment, and Sendoh knew it.

His voice was gentler when he asked, "Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir."

"Then you are dismissed."

Once Myagi had left, Sendoh poured himself a little of the sake that Sato had provided him with, swirled it gently in its cup, and then downed it with a quick throw back of his head. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced into his small shaving mirror.

He didn't recognise himself.

~tbc

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><p>Yikes - two short chapters in a row.<p> 


	10. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943 -Part 3

**#9**

**Rakan-ji Temple**

**Late June 1943**

At dinner time, Makiguchi led the four army men – Sendoh, Toranosuke and the two privates - into the eating hall. It was a basic wooden cabin erected near the monk's sleeping quarters and kitchens. It was furnished with long, wooden tables and uncomfortable benches, seating ten or twelve monks each. From a door at the back, the monks who worked in the kitchens were bringing steaming bowls of plain white rice and a dish of boiled green vegetables. It was hot inside, for there was no breeze.

Makiguchi indicated that they should sit with him at one of the tables and a few of the monks glanced up briefly at their approach.

"It is unusual to have visitors," Makiguchi said with a smile. "Some of the youngsters will be eager to talk to you, no doubt."

Sendoh was impressed that Makiguchi ate together with the rest of the monks. He spotted the abbot at the further side of the room too. It seemed everyone was equal in this regard. There was no special treatment at dinner time.

They sat, and bowls of rice were immediately put before them, along with the vegetables they were to share.

"Hello Marshal, Captain Sendoh..." the monk opposite them spoke up and Sendoh realised he was a familiar face. The monk's eyes glittered with good humour, "...Private Mitsui."

"Kogure-san," Sendoh greeted with a nod. Mitsui looked down at his bowl and said nothing, his face slightly red. A little rude, Sendoh felt with a frown, although Kogure didn't seem to mind.

A little way down their bench, a number of young novices were openly staring at them. They were children, some as young as seven. One boy had flecks of white rice around his mouth. Sendoh smiled at them, but they turned away nervously, shifting in their dark robes. They looked like miniature versions of the adult monks around them.

_Most of these_ _boys_ _are_ _given_ _to_ _the_ _temple_ _in_ _childhood,_ Sendoh recalled. _Or_ _they_ _are_ _abandoned_ _here._ _This_ _is_ _their_ _only_ _home_.

Toranosuke cleared his throat. "So," he began in his usual drawling voice, looking around the room critically. "You all eat together at dinner time, do you?"

Makiguchi gave a pleasant nod. "Most of the adult monks only take one meal each day. Some who are unwell, or assigned to more strenuous work, may take more. And of course the younger monks are provided with additional meals. They are growing boys, you see."

Toranosuke sniffed disdainfully. "Rice and vegetables hardly constitutes a meal for growing boys."

Makiguchi inclined his head. "We eat simply," he explained patiently. "And, as you know, we do not eat meat."

"But I remember you showed me the monks harvesting aubergines this afternoon," Toranosuke persisted. "Will they not be served with dinner today?"

Sendoh couldn't help the flush of embarrassment he felt at the rudeness of his uncle's enquiries.

"There is a small village, at the base of the mountain," Makiguchi replied. "Most of the young men have left to join the war, and the villagers are having some trouble maintaining their fields. Some novices took the aubergines there earlier. The villagers have more need of them than we do."

Sendoh raised his eyebrows.

_What_ _do_ _the_ _Chinese_ _eat?_ _Mostly_ _nothing,_ _Sir._

He closed his eyes. A momentary feeling of contentment passed over him. He had been wrong. Perhaps there was something about this place. He could come to like it, even. With every passing breath, he realised he liked it more.

"Thank you for this blessing," he heard the monks mutter with every mouthful they brought to their lips. "Thank you for this blessing."

Toranosuke was eyeing the food sceptically and scowling to himself.

Sendoh smiled as he picked up his own eating sticks. "Thank you for this blessing," he echoed, and closed his lips around plain rice. It seemed to him then like the most delicious thing he'd ever eaten.

The monks carefully cleaned every grain of rice from their bowls, and as the meals finished, conversations began to start up in pockets of the room.

A few of the young novices drifted ever closer in curiosity, and were both painfully shy and painfully eager to touch the shiny buckles on Mitsui's boots and jacket. Kogure was watching in amusement.

Makiguchi turned to Sendoh. "Well," he said, "I understand you are something of a hero, Captain. Your uncle was telling me of your military achievements this morning."

Ordinarily, Sendoh wouldn't have read anything into such a statement. Discussion of medals and stories of valour were common enough. But considering that this man was leading the largest anti-war movement in Japan, Sendoh couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a slyness in his words. Yet his eyes were kindly, and his posture showed interest.

Sendoh hesitated. "There are a thousand heroes in our army," he said finally. "I am nothing in particular."

Toranosuke grunted at his modesty. "Tell them about Han River," he interjected. "How you won the Medal of Valour."

Sendoh raised his eyes questioningly to Makiguchi who nodded encouragingly. Even the two privates had leaned forward in curiosity. He realised that the young monks were already finding places to sit on the floor nearby and seemed to be waiting for a story. It was one he had recounted several times before, although it was hard to say how it would be received by such an audience. Would they understand it at all?

For a moment he bit his lip. Then, he began to speak.

~tbc


	11. Yu'an Province - November 1940

**#10**

**From The Memories of the General**

**Yu'an Province, China, 29th November 1940**

Yu'an County is a mixture of plains and mountains. The River Han winds through it, carving a path through hillsides so that, in places, the mountains border the river so closely there's no bank to be spoken of. It is astonishingly beautiful, and fundamentally wild. The cities and towns on the plains cannot hope to tame such vast nature.

On a day in November, three years ago, this breathtaking place had become a front line in the war. The terrain was unfamiliar to the Japanese, and there were guerilla enemies hiding in the scrub and constant attacks from the Chinese National Revolutionary Army and, worse, there was said to be another considerably large arm of the Chinese Army fast approaching. The Japanese were very vulnerable.

The plan – a dramatic three-day assault on the area to secure the position - had already failed spectacularly.

Lieutenant General Sonobe was forced to call a retreat, but there was no cover, the Japanese lines spread out and broken, and huge losses inflicted. The retreat turned into a scramble, every man fleeing for his life.

In was in that chaos that the then Lieutenant Sendoh, accompanied by his Warrant Officer Myagi and the fifteen surviving men of his platoon, were retreating. They had already been separated from the main company by fierce shelling and found themselves on a bomb-cratered dirt road winding back down the mountain. Their radio had been damaged, they were out of contact, and the situation was fast becoming critical.

For the moment, they paused in the road, catching their breath.

"A road!" Private Inagi exclaimed in exhausted relief, "we should follow it down the mountain. We're bound to meet up with the company at the bottom."

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Private!" Myagi snapped at him, wiping sweat out of his eyes. "Lieutenant, your orders?"

Sendoh looked up from where he was wrapping a strip of bandage tightly around his knee. He'd been lightly grazed by shrapnel, and although the wound wasn't troubling, he didn't want to leave it open to infection.

Before he could reply, a hail of machine gun fire suddenly pocked the road nearby in quick and ferocious thunder. Sendoh was immediately on his feet.

"Get off the road!" he shouted, "into the jungle! Move!"

The troops, weighed down by their heavy packs, pushed and shoved one another as they scrambled off the roadway and into the thick trees, struggling to make headway against the unyielding bushes and entangling vines even as bullets peppered the broad jungle leaves behind them.

The thick foliage was almost impossible to pass. Sendoh shouted them on until they were out of immediate sight of the road, then they hid themselves in the undergrowth. They lay bellies down, gasping for breath, listening to the sounds of battle and shelling.

"What are they shooting at?" Private Yamoto muttered under his breath. Sendoh wondered the same thing.

Sendoh took quick stock of the troops as they waited. They'd already lost six men. Fifteen was all that was left of his platoon. They were all stressed and exhausted. It had been a long three days without sleep; a demoralising battle culminating in an ugly retreat and heavy casualties. Some of the men could no longer keep their heads up, resting their cheeks tiredly against the fallen leaves and churned soil. Sendoh could feel the exhaustion in his own limbs, dragging him down like lead.

The noise of shelling ceased, and from the road came instead the distinct thunder of passing troops.

The Chinese, Sendoh guessed. There was no chance of simply following the road now. The whine of a passing artillery reached them.

Launch an attack from the jungle? Now? He considered his options carefully. What good would it do? Without the radio Sendoh had no way of knowing what orders were being issued by the Captains and the Lieutenant General. It was possible the Japanese had organised an attack, or ambush, further down the road, and any attack on Sendoh's part now could jeopardise it. This was no time for heroics.

"We'll stay where we are," he told Myagi beside him, "lie low, and move out at nightfall."

As evening fell, he sent a scout to check out the situation on the road.

"I saw bodies," the soldier said as he returned, looking shaken. The boy couldn't have been more than nineteen. "Further back along the road. Japanese."

"Any survivors?"

"I didn't get close enough to see. They're about five hundred metres down the road. It looked pretty... messy," he gave a shiver.

Sendoh refrained from showing his disappointment. To think that there had been another Japanese platoon so nearby, but he hadn't been able to join up with them in time, and that they had perished on the road.

Myagi gave the young private a bracing pat on the shoulder while Sendoh considered his next move.

"We should go and recover the men's tags," he said finally. "And they may have a working radio."

Myagi gave a nod. "That's wise," he agreed, and turned back to the troops. "Pack up! We're moving!"

There was really very little left. The troop appeared to have been hit by a direct shell. Ten or eleven men, although they were so jumbled up, Sendoh couldn't even be sure. Parts of them had been hurled as much as ten feet away, and smears on the dirt road indicated where Chinese troops had trampled over them. There seemed no hope of finding a working radio. They recovered a handful of tags, and were just finishing up, when someone called out - "this one's alive!"

Sendoh and Myagi hurried over, followed by the first aider.

The dying man was a little way off the road, a few paces into the jungle where presumably, he'd been flung in the blast. Only the thick foliage had saved him from being noticed by the passing Chinese troops. He lay in a bog of mud and blood. His face and torso had been burnt. His right leg was missing entirely. Sendoh saw the stripes on his collar and sucked in his breath.

"Major General?"

The man looked weakly at him. Sendoh was astonished. This was an important man! He should have been with the main column, overseeing the operation. He had been second in command after the Lieutenant General himself. Now he was alone, here. Dying.

Sendoh was struck, for the first time, with the realisation of just how badly things had gone wrong.

He had aimed to meet up with the rest of his company, but now he questioned whether the company even existed any more. What if the entire division had been wiped out? What then?

The Major General took a shallow breath. "Lieutenant..?"

"Sendoh. Lieutenant Sendoh, Sir."

"Sendoh," the man wheezed, and something of a distant smile flickered over his bloodied lips. "Ah, yes. I remember – your father -" he coughed, and blood dribbled down his chin.

"Don't try to speak, Sir. Save your strength," he lifted his hand to gesture a private over. "Bring water," he demanded.

"We could assemble a stretcher, Lieutenant," Myagi suggested doubtfully.

Before Sendoh could respond, the wounded General clutched his uniform fiercely. "Don't you die here," he hissed ferociously. "Lieutenant Sendoh, don't you die here." He seemed somewhat delirious with the blood loss.

Sendoh tried to comfort him. "There's an aid post not far away," he lied. "We'll get you there soon. But drink some water first." He pressed a bottle to the man's lips.

The General released his grip on Sendoh's shirt slowly. The water spilt onto his lips and over his chin, but he didn't drink. His eyes slipped closed. Sendoh waited hopefully, but the man did not move again.

His eyes flickered to the roadway where the decimated bodies of so many strong, young men were gathered in a slaughterhouse heap. He felt sorrow rise up in him like a wave.

_We_ _are_ _still_ _alive_, he told himself optimistically. _We_ _are_ _still_ _alive._

Ten days later, he was still repeating the same thing.

They never did find the rest of the company.

Sendoh remembered from earlier briefings that there were outposts in the area. Bases where they could find assistance. Pockets of Japan along this unfamiliar, isolated front. He could even remember their approximate locations. He just wasn't sure where _he_ was in relation. But he had pointed his troops in the direction of his best guess and assured them he knew the way. What else could he have done?

But the jungle was a death trap. With all its poisonous inhabitants, snakes, spiders and leeches, infection-laden water and tempting but deadly fruits and foliage, it was some small wonder that they were all still breathing. Their rations had run out two days before, and they were struggling to locate anything that they could risk eating.

Some men had taken chances on unknown berries, and were now suffering from chronic stomach pains and dysentery. It had become a struggle even to walk.

They were all ashen faced, sweating, eyesight swimming deliriously. Small black flies kept gathering around Sendoh's mouth, and he waved them away only half-heartedly now. They always returned.

At the front of the platoon, two men were hacking a path through the jungle with their bayonet fixtures. It was not the right tool for the job, and it was extremely slow going.

And still Sendoh couldn't even be sure they were walking in the right direction.

"If we make it out here..." Myagi was mumbling deliriously, "...we'll sure have a story to tell, won't we, Lieutenant?"

Sendoh only grunted in reply. He stared at his own feet, willing himself simply to place one in front of the other.

"Maybe a promotion. They'll make you a Captain, for sure." Myagi smiled wistfully to himself. "We'll have a party that night, I tell you."

Behind them came a crash as one of the privates fell through the thick leafy foliage and hit the floor in a dead faint.

Sendoh saw Myagi roll his eyes slightly as they turned back.

"Get water for that man," Sendoh said, though his voice sounded foggy, his tongue dry and heavy in his mouth.

"There's none, Lieutenant..." someone spoke up.

"But we stopped at a stream only yesterday," Sendoh commented in surprise.

Myagi leaned towards him and whispered, "That was four days ago, Lieutenant."

Sendoh sighed. He didn't have the energy to deal with such problems. It was hard to focus even on simple things now. He shook his head foggily.

"We'll fix up the stretcher," he said. "Unpack it."

The troops slowly set to work, their hands clumsy. Myagi looked up at him. "Are you sure we can carry him?" he muttered in a low voice. "It might be better to leave him here."

Sendoh shook his head. "It won't be much further," he said with conviction. "We'll take him with us."

"How do you reckon that?" Myagi replied, surprised.

Sendoh frowned. "Because if it's more than two more days, we're not going to make it whether we're carrying him or not."

Myagi stared at him for a moment before giving a long, unsteady sigh. "We've seen some real shit, Lieutenant," he said sombrely. "Some real ugly crap. I don't regret it, you know. In fact I'll be damn sorry if this is the last one."

Sendoh shrugged slightly.

Myagi suddenly clapped a hand on his arm. "We'll make it," he announced confidently. "We'll make it for sure. I never met anyone as lucky as you. You're my lucky star, Lieutenant Sendoh. We're gonna live forever."

* * *

><p>He stopped short, leaving the story hanging.<p>

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. The trails of the recount swam away from him.

For the first time he wondered... would it have been kinder if they had died there in the jungle, in their strange delirium? Myagi had spoken of horrors back then without knowing any better. Not having any idea what hell really was. What happened when people's luck ran out.

He blinked and saw that the monks were all staring at him, awestruck. He'd attracted quite a crowd, some sitting on the floor with the youngsters, others standing around the back of the group, all listening intently.

"Did you find the aid post?" someone asked eagerly as Sendoh lapsed into silence.

He forced his concentration back to the story. Slowly, he nodded. "We reached an outpost the next day. We made it back. All fifteen of us." He spread his hands to indicate that the tale was over. He no longer felt up to telling it.

The young novices who had been leaning forward, so close they nearly touched his knees, dissolved into animated chatter. Many asked eager questions of him, while just as many chatted to one another

"Let's play Han River," one boy exclaimed excitedly. "I'll be the Lieutenant!"

"I want to be Warrant Officer Myagi!"

Their eyes were shining with excitement.

Sendoh felt a little bit dizzy.

"You'll return to your dorms," a no-nonsense voice came from behind them, interrupting their games. Sendoh looked up to find the abbot staring down at the children fiercely. The adult monks were already beginning to slink away, conscious of the abbot's displeasure. "And you'll reflect," the abbot continued, "on the many thousands of lives this war has taken from us. The brothers, sons and fathers, lost. The families torn apart."

The boys immediately looked chastened, and under the abbot's fierce stare they began to trail reluctantly out of the room. A few sent Sendoh final, wistful glances.

"I hope you will refrain from discussing such inappropriate topics in the future," the abbot continued, eyeing Sendoh coldly. "It isn't right to glorify war, particularly in front of our youngest novices."

"The Captain spoke at my request," Makiguchi interjected immediately, lifting a hand peacefully. "I should have been more mindful of the location. I apologise."

"Hmm," the abbot replied disapprovingly, "don't let it happen again."

He turned to walk back to the place where he had been eating while Makiguchi sent Sendoh an apologetic look.

Sendoh frowned to himself. _Glorify_ _war?_ Was that how his words had sounded? There had been no glory during that fortnight in Yu'an. He had not intended to make the experience sound anything other than the sorry failure it had been – a tragic waste of lives. The idea of making it sound glorious seemed ridiculous. He regretted speaking at all. Why was it, he wondered, that the tales of deepest pain caused such thrill? Why had those young boys heard a story of excitement and adventure when he had thought to tell a tragedy?

The monks had mostly dispersed by now. Kogure seemed to have drifted away, as had the two privates. The adult monks that remained were talking in low whispers to one another, careful not to glance Sendoh's way. But there was one pair of eyes that still watched him with rapt attention. He noticed, for the first time, that the blue eyed monk was sitting only a couple of tables away, staring at him as if mesmerised.

Sendoh's eyes widened in recognition, but the monk quickly looked away as soon as their eyes met. Sendoh watched him attentively, but Rukawa Kaede did not look his way again.

_I_ _don't_ _understand_ _myself_, he realised gloomily. _Why_ _should_ _I_ _find_ _interest_ _in_ _that_ _which_ _causes_ _me_ _such_ _pain?_

_This_ _Rukawa_ _Kaede_...

He shook his head.

_I_ _should_ _avoid_ _him,_ _I_ _know._ _But_ _somehow..._ _I..._ _I_ _can't_ _help_ _wanting_ _to_ _talk_ _to_ _him._

_I_ _must_ _be_ _mad._

* * *

><p>As they were parting to retire to their cabin for the evening, Makiguchi spoke up.<p>

"Each morning," he revealed "the monks practise their martial skills at dawn. Fighting men like yourselves might find it an interesting spectacle to watch." He smiled in invitation.

Sendoh exchanged a glance with his uncle.

"That certainly sounds interesting," Toranosuke responded guardedly. "We shall try to attend."

* * *

><p>"<em>Martial<em> _skills_?" Toranosuke exclaimed as soon as they had reached their cabin. "Martial! Did you hear him say that?"

"I did," Sendoh replied with a sigh, folding his clothes into a neat pile. "Martial arts are traditional for monks, aren't they? They've been doing it for centuries, the _Souhei_, and all that?"

"Of course but – but – the _hypocrisy_ of it! Criticising the war, claiming to be pacifists, all the while practising knocking each other around with nun-chucks or whatever – penniless monks playing at being _samurai_. What a joke! They wouldn't kill a mosquito it if landed on their cock."

"Uncle!" Sendoh exclaimed, appalled. Toranosuke scowled and climbed into his bed.

"Well," he snivelled, "we'll see how little monks play at war tomorrow morning."

~tbc


	12. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943 -Part 4

**#11**

**Rakan-ji Temple, Late June 1943**

It was a bald area of earth, surrounded by scraggly trees. At the edges of the small clearing, a number of monks – all dressed in their usual dark blue robes – had seated themselves in the shade. Some sat alone, others silent in small groups. There was a quiet air of expectancy. The abbot was walking in circles at the centre of the area, muttering incantations under his breath, the rings on his shakujo ringing out with every step.

Makiguchi caught sight of them, and quickly came their way. "Good morning," he said brightly, "I'm glad you could make it."

"What's going on here?" Toranosuke asked, gesturing to the abbot.

"Preparations. The abbot is warning away the creatures of the area, so they won't be trodden on."

"These..." Toranosuke waved an arm dismissively, "...martial arts. It is a form of combat, is it not?"

"Certainly."

"And you condone that, do you? Fighting?"

The accusation in his tone was impossible to miss.

"I think that you need to watch them, before you can understand it. They fight – that is true – but there is no violence here. They move without anger, and without fear."

"And what is the purpose of this training?"

"Control of the mind," Makiguchi replied. "All of the monks here are dedicated to that purpose – to achieve that perfect state of mind – to know perfect balance."

"Is that what they call... enlightenment?" Sendoh queried, and Makiguchi nodded.

"At its core, this exercise requires one to clear the mind and put aside all emotion – fear, pride, nerves, excitement. But look, they're starting now..."

The abbot seemed to have make a sign, for the monks had stood and gathered together. They began to act out a series of basic fighting motions. Standing in tidy lines they practised hits and punches in unison, striking nothing but the air. Their arms moved, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes with clenched fists, sometimes with an open palm.

Toranosuke folded his arms and looked unimpressed. Sendoh waited attentively.

Another sign from the abbot and the lines broke apart, dissolving and reforming into something like a ring, at the centre of which two monks faced one another. They bowed before commencing an exchange of grabs and throws that reminded Sendoh of a judo match. They tumbled about, kicking up dust and weeds, while the others looked on in silence.

The atmosphere felt... strange. There was no cheering or shouting, no excitement or passions. The two monks were clearly skilled, and fought with as much determination and strength as any soldier Sendoh had seen, but they were – as Makiguchi had said – somehow without emotion. It was a fight, but at the same time, there was no fighting.

_They're_ _on_ _a_ _completely_ _different_ _plane_, Sendoh thought to himself. _Their_ _awareness,_ _their_ _control..._ _it_ _is_ _no_ _common_ _thing_.

After several bouts in which no side emerged an obvious victor, the monks bowed and retreated, vanishing among their peers. Two others immediately stepped forward.

"Weapons," Toranosuke commented, seeing that both monks were carrying tall sticks, resembling shakujo but lacking the metal adornment at the top. "That doesn't seem very... _zen_."

Sendoh didn't hear Makiguchi's reply for his breath had hitched. One of the monks was Rukawa. Sendoh stood on tiptoe to see better.

Rukawa was the taller of the two, but the other monk was stockier and seemed stronger. The crowd shuffled a few paces backwards, out of reach of the poles.

Rukawa was gripping his pole in one hand and surveying his opponent carefully. He looked very calm.

Sendoh looked on eagerly as Rukawa carefully rolled each of his shoulders, tilting his head from side to side to loosen his neck. Then he drew down one of the shoulders of his robe, freeing his arm from the sleeve. Passing the pole between his hands, he did the same for his other shoulder until the upper part of his habit hung down from his waist. His arms, back and chest were bare in the dappled shade.

Sendoh realised that he was staring, but couldn't seem to look away.

His eyes traced the clear definition of muscle in back and arms. There was a strange discomfort in the back of his throat. He swallowed awkwardly.

Rukawa and his opponent were still observing each other cautiously. The hush over the watching spectators remained. Rukawa spun the long pole experimentally between his fingers while the other adopted a strong, defensive stance.

There was a second to breathe. A second of perfect still. And then they moved.

Even Toranosuke gasped as the sticks crashed together for the first time. Rukawa took the first, quick step back and angled his pole downwards, dragging it in a quick swipe across the floor, creating a cloud of dust. The tip of his pole was almost too fast for sight. His opponent read the move, however, and leapt up, keeping his feet safely away from the attack. Rukawa brought the pole back into his body just in time to deflect a jab at his face.

It was almost impossible to follow what was going on. Sendoh's eyes became confused by the sheer speed of their movements. Only the sharp crack of the poles striking told him just how many blows were being exchanged.

Dust billowed around their scuffling feet, settling in a red mist on the hems that whipped about their calves. Sendoh leaned forward, struggling to work out who had the upper hand.

A sudden smash sent Rukawa staggering, blood flying from his lip as the pole caught him across the face.

Sendoh half expected him to fall, the blow had been so swift and strong. But Rukawa did not lose his feet, though he seemed momentarily dazed. His opponent was already preparing to strike again and Sendoh winced in expectation of a second strike. Somehow Rukawa managed to dig the end of his pole into the ground as a prop, steadying himself just enough to dodge the blow, and then to counter-attack. His stick struck his opponent's side with a sound like falling rocks. A jab straight into his stomach had him doubled over, stumbling backwards, and a final neat blow to the head and the monk crumpled to the floor.

The silence continued.

Sendoh had half expected applause to break out, certainly the tension he felt seemed to warrant it, but no one else seemed to be seized by the compulsion to move. He realised he was shifting his weight between his feet in agitation, and forced himself to stop.

Rukawa stepped forward and offered his hand to his opponent, who took it and got to his feet. They bowed to one another, and stepped silently back into the crowd. Two others silently took their place.

Sendoh turned his wide eyes on Makiguchi and his uncle beside him. Toranosuke looked as surprised as Sendoh felt.

"Who is that boy?" Toranosuke asked slowly, not looking away from the ring, his expression strangely intense.

"Rukawa Kaede?" Makiguchi shrugged. "One of the novices. He's quite an unusual one. Reserved. Willful. Doesn't get along with the abbot at all, oh no..." he smiled to himself in amusement. "He had lived in the monastery his whole life. There's not much more to say, really."

Sendoh chewed his lip. He felt like there was a great deal more to say.

"Perhaps you would like to meet him for yourself?" Makiguchi suggested, and with a wave of his arm, gestured across the clearing.

At Makiguchi's summons, Sendoh saw Rukawa break away from the gathering of monks and come towards them, pulling the shoulders of his robes up as he did so.

He stopped between Makiguchi and Toranosuke, opposite Sendoh, and glanced at each of them. There was a nasty welt on his cheek, below his eye, already bruising, but he paid it no mind. His lip had stopped bleeding.

Makiguchi lifted his hand to introduce everyone. "Rukawa-kun, this is Marshal Sendoh Toranosuke and Captain Sendoh Akira. They are two distinguished representatives from the Japanese Imperial Army. They are staying as our guests here at the temple."

"Marshal," the boy greeted begrudgingly, his voice low and sulky, "Captain."

Sendoh gave a flickering smile. Rukawa responded with a stare. It was the same look he'd had while listening to Sendoh's story yesterday. Intense. Almost... suspicious? It made Sendoh want to look away.

"Congratulations," Sendoh blurted out.

Rukawa tilted his head in confusion. "What for?"

Sendoh gestured towards the centre of the clearing where another match was already under way. "You won your fight," he clarified.

Rukawa stared at him blankly. "There is no winner," he stated, as if it were obvious. "In a fight, there is only ever two losers."

Sendoh did not know how to reply.

"The Marshal was intrigued by your skills," Makiguchi quickly spoke up, lifting his eyes to Toranosuke expectantly.

Toranosuke immediately stood a little taller and cleared his throat. "Why yes. Where did you learn to fight like that, boy?"

Rukawa threw the older man a look of contempt. "Here, at the monastery," he responded. "Where else?"

Toranosuke coughed gruffly. "Well, of course. But who taught you?"

"The elder monks are the masters."

"Hm. And do you enjoy the sport?"

"Sport?" Rukawa echoed. "Fighting is not for enjoyment."

Toranosuke frowned disapprovingly. "You certainly have a lot of opinions for such a young man," he pointed out, and his voice left them in no uncertain terms that it was anything but a compliment.

Rukawa shrugged dismissively. The air was suddenly unpleasant.

"I have chores to do," Rukawa finally announced, turning his eyes accusingly on Makiguchi, who nodded somewhat helplessly in response.

"Yes, I understand, Rukawa-kun. Thank you for your time."

_He's almost_ _like_ _a_ _child,_ Sendoh thought. _A_ _sulky, self-righteous_ _child_.

Rukawa's eyes flickered over each of them carelessly for the final time, lingering on Sendoh perhaps only a second longer, before he turned and walked away without bothering to give any of them a proper farewell.

The three of them watched him go.

Next to Sendoh, Toranosuke was bristling. "Arrogant boy, isn't he?"

Makiguchi sighed a little, as if he had heard it all before. "The abbot does find him challenging. But he has a clear mind and a clear soul. I must admit, I am actually quite fond of him."

"A week in the army would soon knock that bad attitude out of him," Toranosuke insisted. "It would do him some good."

Makiguchi looked sideways at Sendoh, with a twinkling of a grin as if he had expected Toranosuke to make just such a suggestion. Sendoh had to remind himself to suppress his smile.

"If you go now," Makiguchi suggested to Sendoh, "I expect you will be able to catch up with him. I believe he was quite interested in your story yesterday. He asked me about you, after we parted ways."

_Asked about me?_ Sendoh lifted his head in surprise. He'd been under the impression that the boy hadn't seen him as anything more than a considerable annoyance.

He looked from Makiguchi to Toranosuke, and was surprised when his uncle nodded in agreement.

"Yes. Go and talk to him. Tell him more about the army. You'll be a good influence on him."

Sendoh hesitated. "Um... well, then, I'll be going," he replied uncertainly, bowing quickly to the two older men, and heading off the way Rukawa had gone. Makiguchi did not miss the eager bounce in his step that his demeanour had not otherwise revealed.

As Sendoh moved away from the clearing, back into the trees, he found himself replaying the fight over and over in his head. The adrenaline was still prickly in his limbs.

It had infected his blood. A thrill. An urge to move, to run, to act. Like an itch he couldn't scratch. How badly he wanted to test his speed, his wits, his strength against that strange boy and the pole he sent whistling through the air. If he'd had the choice, he felt like he would have torn his way out of the clearing and charged headlong down the path at full speed. For the first time in many months he was arrested with the desire to run, to sprint, perhaps to fly.

But he hadn't gone far down the mountain's track before his leg began to ache. He was forced to slow down, wincing in pain and frustration.

He still wasn't used to it. His whole life he'd been strong and fit. A soldier. The helpless feeling of his invalidity was like needles.

Especially after watching that.

That _fight_.

_I_ _could_ _win,_ he felt strongly. _I'm_ _sure_ _of_ _it._

But every step reminded him of his injury. Reality tasted bitter in his mouth.

It was probably his frustration that forced him to power his way through the pain, so that eventually he somehow managed to catch up to Rukawa and grab hold of his arm.

Rukawa, who had been stalking along in his own set of angry thoughts, stopped and looked back at him in some surprise while Sendoh doubled over gasping, trying to catch his breath.

"Don't-" he gasped, looking into Rukawa's face and saw once again the blues eyes that struck him to the bone. "-don't go. Talk to me. I want... to talk to you."

There was a flicker of something dark in Rukawa's features, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

_He's holding back his anger_, Sendoh realised. He remembered what Makiguchi had said about the monks – striving for _perfect balance_, aiming to _reject emotion_.

Looking into Rukawa's face he realised he was looking at a monk who was fundamentally failing his task.

"Not now," Rukawa replied through tight lips.

"Yes, now," Sendoh retorted, straightening himself up a little and wiping sweat out of his eyes. The combination of adrenaline and pain made him more forceful than usual. "I don't care if you're angry. With my uncle. With me. _Be_ angry. Just... walk with me. Please." He stared at him intently as if he could persuade him with his eyes.

A little of the frantic control seemed to leave Rukawa's face, and he rolled his eyes slightly. The trees around them seemed very quiet all of a sudden.

He scrutinised the panting Sendoh and then, reluctantly, offered his arm to lean on.

Sendoh was surprised, but Rukawa only looked determinedly in another direction. After a moment, Sendoh took a hold of the offered arm, and together they turned their feet back down the path together.

Despite Sendoh's request to talk, they walked the way back to the temple in silence. Not an entirely uncomfortable one. There was breathing, footsteps, the rustle of leaves and the singing of cicada. Sendoh did not let go of Rukawa's arm, and for some reason Rukawa didn't seem to mind.

As they neared the residential buildings, they passed the stairs to the mountaintop which Rukawa had climbed the day before.

"What's up there?" Sendoh broke the silence finally, indicating the steep path.

Rukawa gave a shrug. "Nothing in particular."

"Makiguchi said the view was good."

"I suppose. If you care for such things."

"But it's a long climb?"

"Yes."

"Do you climb it every day?" Sendoh continued curiously.

"Yes."

Sendoh a thoughtful hum. "I guess I'll have to climb up sometime..." he began, but then reached subconsciously for his thigh, pressing the wounds with his fingers. Rukawa noticed his action but said nothing.

"Shall we sit in the shade?" Sendoh suggested finally, gesturing towards the side of the path, under a mop of trees. "So we can... talk?"

There were no chairs or benches, of course, but Rukawa moved as Sendoh suggested, and sat in an elegant sprawl of limbs directly on the bare earth. His linens spread around him, picking up dust and twigs, to which he paid no attention. Sendoh did the same, wincing just a little as he lowered himself to the ground. It was still early morning, yet the summer heat was already rising, and the insects were singing loudly. Sendoh tugged at his collar, feeling uncomfortable. Beside him, Rukawa Kaede waited, looking out across the valley silently, cool in his loose bell sleeves and linen.

Uncommonly tall, Sendoh was reminded all over again. Slim, too. And yet he had presence; that could not be denied. The sort of person who drew attention naturally, despite efforts to deflect it. His face was pleasingly even, his hair an unruly mess. But it was his eyes – _those eyes!_ - that set Sendoh at once leaning forwards and reeling back. Every time he looked at them he felt himself riddled with both irresistible curiosity and indescribable pain. Curious – for this odd connection between the present and the past. Pain – for those memories demanded nothing less.

_Is it fate?_ He wondered vaguely. _That my torment should follow me, even here?_

He struggled to see it any other way. For now, this monk seemed to be a knife of penance. Here only because Sendoh deserved to be reminded. Would never be allowed to forget.

"I can't take it," Sendoh declared finally, interrupting his own thoughts. "This heat... it can't be natural."

Rukawa only shrugged. "I didn't know soldiers complained so much."

Sendoh fidgeted. "You'd hate it too, if you had to wear this uniform all the time."

The answer came in a disdainful sniff. "Then don't wear it."

"I don't have anything else."

"Not my problem."

They locked eyes. A stab of blue. Sendoh swiftly looked away.

Finally Rukawa took a breath. "Your story – what happened at Han River. Was it true?" The words sounded nonchalant, but somehow Sendoh caught the rush of awkward eagerness beneath.

He glanced over at Rukawa and nodded.

"Did you get a promotion, like your friend said?"

_Friend_. The word seemed strange. Sendoh considered it for a moment. _Was Myagi my... friend?_

_Yes, of course he was._

"We did. I became a Captain, and Myagi was my lieutenant."

Rukawa immediately caught the implication behind his words. "Then... he's not your lieutenant any more?"

Sendoh hesitated, and shook his head. He recalled, for a moment, Myagi's face in the harsh light of his office in that far-away house in Canton, telling him about the zombies and the screaming and the smells.

"No," he said after a moment. "Not any more."

"Have you been to other places?" Rukawa continued curiously.

Sendoh was surprised. Three questions in a row from the boy he'd only heard speak in imperatives. He couldn't help but tease him slightly.

"Why? Are you very interested in travelling?" he asked with a smile.

Rukawa immediately looked away.

"I've never left the mountain," he muttered uncomfortably, "so..."

Sendoh lifted his eyebrows in surprise, and Rukawa shot him a wilting glare as if daring him to make a comment. Sendoh rapidly swallowed his questions.

_Lived here all his life_, Sendoh recalled. _Raised by the monks. I suppose it's only natural he's never been anywhere else._

For the first time he began to wonder what it felt like for the monks to be trapped here.

Aloud he said, "Well, before the war I was posted to the base in Okinawa."

"What was it like?"

"Hmm..." Sendoh thought back. "...sunny. And the sea was a crystal blue." He turned his head to check, and saw that Rukawa was staring at him intently.

"A bright sun and a blue sea?" the monk echoed, sounding somewhat disdainful.

"Heh," Sendoh let out an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head. He supposed it sounded rather dull and clichéd. But how did one capture the essence of a place – explain it to someone who'd never been anywhere? He shifted rapidly through his memories. What had struck him about that place the most?

"Well..." he began again, haltingly. "I remember there was a girl, just a child, living in a village near the camp. We always walked past the village on our daily hikes. They were long, gruelling things. Eight hours of walking, jogging, running, up and down hills and hacking through jungle. But every morning she would be there, on the doorstep of her house, waving and cheering us on as if it were a parade." He smiled a little to himself. "I never knew her name. She never missed a day for as long as I was stationed there."

"And now?"

Sendoh shrugged. "I don't know. We were there only six months. I haven't even thought of her since then. She was just a flicker of something. A tiny piece of nothing that existed in my life for so many weeks. And now, like all things, she's faded from my view." He shifted, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as if he'd revealed an embarrassing secret. "It was really nothing," he blurted. "Just something I remember, that's all."

Rukawa shifted his weight, inadvertently moving a little closer to Sendoh's arm.

"How does it feel?" Rukawa asked unexpectedly.

"What?"

"That feeling..." Rukawa gestured vaguely with one hand, "...of parting? Of losing something?"

Sendoh blinked at him. "What do you mean? Don't you know it?"

Rukawa shook his head as if disappointed. "Everything here is so... boring. One day is just like the next."

Sendoh gave a long sigh. "No one should wish for sorrow," he replied. "Loss is one of the most painful things you can bear."

Rukawa frowned as if he didn't believe him.

Sendoh saw his look and shrugged. "I wouldn't be too concerned about it, if I were you. Every life has its share of loss. Even here you will find yourself faced with it eventually. Nothing lasts forever, after all."

Rukawa looked back up at the sky.

"Loss," he mouthed the word experimentally. "Pain."

Sendoh closed his eyes as if remembering something, and for a moment his face twisted. Rukawa pretended not to see.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Oh! Does it start to feel like a senru finally? Hahaha.<p>

I just realised the last 3 chapters were ALL numbered as #8 - fail ._.


	13. Canton Province - March 1943 - Part 2

**#12**

**Canton Province, March 1943**

"Captain! Captain Sendoh!"

Sato and Sendoh both looked up from their breakfast plates as a messenger burst into the dining room. He was a young soldier, carrying a folded paper in his hand. He saluted swiftly before handing over the letter.

Frowning, Sendoh rapidly unfolded the leaf to read. There were only three lines, but he read them several times. Each time his frown deepened.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Sato queried from the other side of the table, sipping from his tea cup nonchalantly.

Sendoh sighed and refolded the note, tucking it into his breast pocket.

"Nothing serious. Another two men were killed in the Western district a couple of hours ago. Guerilla activity around the university site."

"How unfortunate."

"Yes. One of them was my lieutenant. Lieutenant Myagi."

Sato glanced up at him. Sendoh's face was a careful mask.

"That's a set back." Sato said finally. "He'll be difficult to replace."

Sendoh turned his eyes to the window and watched the clouds blankly.

_He_ _died_ _defending_ _your_ _ugly_ _piece_ _of_ _hell,_ he thought miserably to himself. _He_ _was_ _a_ _good_ _man._ _An_ _honourable_ _solider._ _He_ _deserved_ _better_ _than_ _this_ _place._

_I_ _served_ _with_ _him_ _for__five__years_.

_We made it through so much together._

_Saved each other's lives more times than I can count._

_But..._ _I've_ _no_ _sorrow_ _left._

After a moment, he turned back to Major Sato. "I'll go and inspect the area personally this afternoon."

"A wise idea, Captain. I'm sure you will be able to reduce this spate of security breeches."

"I hope so."

~tbc

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><p>ANs: May not be able to upload a chapter tomorrow because #^ *(#F! my copy of Deep Purple #13 is WAITING FOR ME in the post office and I'm going to pick it up and subsequently die a heavenly death. Mwahahahahahaha.<p> 


	14. A Page From The General's Notebook - 3

**#13**

**A Page from the General's Notebook**

"_I'm_ _a_ _man_ _of_ _science,_ _Captain_ _Sendoh.__" __He_ _kept_ _repeating_ _it._

_I_ _couldn't_ _see_ _him_ _but_ _they_ _were_ _his_ _words._ _His_ _voice._ _I_ _knew_ _it_ _was_ _a_ _dream,_ _although_ _knowing_ _didn't_ _help._ _Didn't_ _soften__it._ _Didn't_ _make_ _me_ _feel_ _any_ _less_ _sick._

_Around_ _me_ _was_ _a_ _zoo._ _A_ _dreamscape_ _of_ _iron_ _bars_ _and_ _imprisoned_ _animals._ _But_ _as_ _I_ _walked,_ _the_ _zoo__slowly changed_ _into_ _the_ _university.__Broken_ _windows_ _and_ _scuttling_ _roaches._ _The_ _animals_ _changed_ _too._ _They_ _became_ _more_ _and_ _more_ _disfigured_ _the_ _further_ _I_ _walked_ _until_ _they_ _were_ _barely_ _animals_ _any_ _more__ – __they_ _sent_ _me_ _recoiling_ _in_ _disgust._ _And_ _yet,_ _for_ _all__my horror,_ _I_ _could_ _not_ _look_ _away._

_I_ _think_ _I_ _touched_ _the_ _bars._

_I_ _saw_ _an_ _elephant_ _collapsed_ _on_ _its_ _knees_ _and_ _crying_ _almost_ _like_ _a_ _child._ _There_ _were_ _iron_ _chains_ _around_ _its_ _ankles_ _which_ _were_ _sore_ _and_ _infected._ _In_ _the_ _next_ _cage_ _monkeys_ _were_ _screaming_ _down_ _at_ _me_ _from_ _high_ _on_ _their_ _bars._ _Their_ _faces__looked human,_ _and_ _blood_ _was_ _dripping_ _from_ _their_ _fur._

"_Science,_ _Captain_ _Sendoh,__" __Sato_ _reminded_ _me._

_There_ _were_ _penguins_ _gorging_ _on_ _raw_ _flesh,_ _beaks_ _bloody_ _like_ _razors._ _Tigers_ _sawed_ _in_ _two,_ _stretched_ _out_ _like_ _slabs_ _of_ _meat_ _with_ _their_ _intestines_ _open_ _to_ _the_ _air_ _and_ _bloated_ _in_ _the_ _heat._

"_Science,_ _Captain.__"_

_The_ _last_ _cage._ _I_ _looked_ _and_ _saw..._ _her._ _She_ _was_ _looking_ _at_ _me._ _Blue_ _eyes_ _fixed_ _on_ _me._ _But_ _there_ _was_ _nothing_ _left_ _of_ _her._ _No_ _body._ _Just_ _a_ _severed_ _head_ _bleeding_ _on_ _the_ _cold_ _floor._

_I'm_ _sure_ _I_ _woke_ _up_ _screaming_.

~tbc

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><p>Hello :) sorry for the delay. I am alive and well. I have been waylaid by muses of another variety and have been working on a different story for the past couple of days. I kinda assumed no one was reading this (?) so I was surprised by the reviews telling me to get on with it haha ._."<p> 


	15. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943 -Part 5

**#14**

**Rakan-Ji Temple**

**Late June 1943**

Sendoh knew it was Rukawa even from a distance. He didn't know how he knew. His height gave it away. His stance. His aura, perhaps.

He and Makiguchi waited patiently as Sendoh and Toranosuke approached. Sendoh felt suddenly self-conscious of the limp that slowed him down, and the awkward, lurching gait he was forced to adopt.

Makiguchi, as always, opened his palms in a welcoming gesture.

"Good morning," he began cheerfully. "Did you sleep any better?"

Toranosuke frowned. "Not particularly," he grumbled. Sendoh was staring curiously at Rukawa.

"Rukawa-kun has offered to show you around again today, Captain, if you wish?" Makiguchi smiled and his eyes nearly vanished into the creases around them.

Apparently embarrassed, Rukawa steadfastly refused to meet his eye. Sendoh felt surprisingly excited by the prospect of spending the morning with the unusual boy again.

"Certainly. If Rukawa-kun is not busy..."

Makiguchi threw up his hands in a slightly theatrical gesture. "Oh, I'm sure he has dozens of chores to complete, but as he doesn't do them normally, I don't see why this day should be exceptional."

Sendoh cracked a grin, "Well, then."

He felt his uncle's stare but didn't trouble himself to wonder about it. For the moment he didn't care what his uncle thought.

"What are your chores?" he asked curiously once he and Rukawa had walked out of earshot.

A disinterested shrug. "Tending the vegetables. Cleaning. Teaching the novices. That sort of thing."

"But you don't help out?"

Rukawa threw him a disdainful stare and didn't reply.

"Well, what _do_ you do with your time then?"

Rukawa gestured vaguely with one hand. "Climb the mountain," he replied shortly.

Sendoh watched him from the corner of his eye as they walked onwards. He half-expected the boy to be joking, but he seemed quite serious. Sendoh turned his eyes upwards, in the direction of the vague gesture, to look at the rock and greenery that sloped upwards above them.

_Why does he climb up there every day? What does he do exactly?_

They walked onwards.

They came round the side of the temple, and abruptly met a sight that caused all thought of conversation to vacate Sendoh's mind. He stopped still in surprise. Rukawa came to a halt in his shadow.

"Private!" Sendoh barked.

Mitsui leapt back so quickly that he caught his heel on the uneven floor and fell, arms pin-wheeling, to the ground. Against the side of the temple wall, a blushing monk slowly pulled the sleeves of his robe back over his shoulders.

"Captain!?" the young soldier looked absolutely horrified, scrambling to his feet and snapping himself into the most upright salute he could manage. His uniform was crumpled and mused, buttons half undone, shirt hanging out from his waistband. He stood frozen in his salute, not moving even to straighten his clothes, eyes fixed on the sky as if wishing god would strike him down.

"What in god's name do you think you are doing?" Sendoh demanded.

Mitsui hesitated.

"Explain!"

"I er... I was spending some time with... with Kogure-san, Captain."

Sendoh's eyes flickered to the familiar monk in question, who blushed a little and smiled at him. Sendoh was aware of Rukawa standing silently, just behind his left shoulder, and tried to pretend he wasn't there.

"Need I remind you that you are on _duty_, Private? This is not some sort of holiday. The abbot is kindly hosting us as his guests, and you repay him by _fooling_ _around_ with the monks? Is it your intention to bring absolute ridicule upon the imperial army because you cannot keep your cock in your pants?"

"No, Captain. Sorry, Captain."

"Get out of my sight, and pray to god I don't decide to report this incident to the Marshal."

"Very well, Captain. Thank you, Captain." Mitsui lowered his salute and swiftly marched away from the scene without daring to look back again.

Sendoh watched him go, and then turned his eyes to Kogure. The monk was straightening his clothes.

Not entirely sure what to do with him, Sendoh hoped Rukawa might say something, but after a awkward moment of silence it became obvious that Rukawa had no such intention.

Sendoh eventually decided to just give Kogure a swift bow. "Please accept my apologies, Kogure-san."

Kogure straightened himself and looked at him curiously. "Your apologies, Captain?" he queried. His usually gentle tone was slightly affected by a ripple of irritation. "Are you seeking to apologise for Private Mitsui's behaviour, or for yours?"

Sendoh blinked at him. "I- er-"

Kogure's eyes narrowed in an expression of quiet dislike. "Good day Captain. Rukawa-kun." He gave them each a quick nod, and walked away. Sendoh didn't know what to say. What had just happened?

Rukawa shifted a little beside him, and Sendoh turned his way, feeling strangely awkward and embarrassed. Rukawa only tilted his head.

"On duty, Captain?"

Sendoh blinked. "What?"

"You said you were on duty. Are we to expect enemy forces to parachute into the temple?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, talking to me, is that a part of your duties too?"

"No. Well... yes. But no. I just like... to hear what you have to say."

Rukawa shrugged coldly, and Sendoh hastily tried to change the subject.

"Just now... with Kogure... will he get into trouble?"

"No."

Sendoh's brow furrowed. "I thought monks weren't allowed to... you know..." he waved a hand awkwardly, "...sex, and that."

"Monks have been permitted to marry for hundreds of years," Rukawa pointed out dismissively. "How could that be possible?"

Sendoh frowned. "But surely not... with another man?"

Rukawa sighed and turned away as if he were at the limits of his patience. "Do you always look no further than the _rules_ that someone else has passed down to you? Aren't you tired of wondering what is _allowed_? What isn't _allowed_? Who is to tell us what we can and cannot do? You are a human, aren't you? Can't you follow _your_ conscience instead of someone else's? Or do you lack the empathy to tell right from wrong?"

"But... the Buddha..." Sendoh rallied, "the abbot would be angry... surely..."

"Is that the purpose of your life? To please your superiors?"

"But there has to be rules... order... otherwise..." Sendoh hesitated. He was an army man. He'd been following orders his whole life. The hierarchy of command was as ingrained in him as breathing. Questioning it, he realised now, had never seriously occurred to him.

Rukawa glared at him. "Do you understand the task of the monks here?"

Sendoh frowned in confusion. "Makiguchi said... to find balance, or enlightenment."

Rukawa folded his arms.

"Every person walks a different path. For some, it will be a path of abstinence. For some it will be a path of passivity, a vow to hurt no living thing. Some will fast, some will meditate, some will find meaning in the sutras. Each of us will find enlightenment in a different place, and in a different way. Our actions and our experiences are to that end. Who am I to judge the path another chooses to take?"

Sendoh blinked at him. Up until now he had assumed Rukawa held a certain disdain for the spiritual life of the monastics. Now, he began to realise, he may have misjudged the young monk.

"And you?" he wondered curiously. "What is your path? Your way to enlightenment?"

Rukawa pursed his lips slightly. "I climb the mountain," he replied.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Ah- so glad to know some people are still following along :D Thanks for all your comments!<p> 


	16. Canton Province - March 1943 - Part 3

**#15**

**Canton Province**

**March 1943**

He'd avoided the place, though he wouldn't admit as much. He hadn't been back since Sato had taken him there on the first day, although he'd be lying if he said he hadn't visited it far more frequently in his nightmares.

It looked the same. Grey, drab, neglected. He stood back at the roadside, looking at the university building down the main drive. He didn't want to approach it, but a soldier on duty at the gate opened the barrier for him, and he felt almost obliged to step onto the grounds.

He was hardly a surprise that a place like this would be a prime target for attacks. It was a veritable monument to oppression. He walked his way slowly up towards the entrance, and noticed a young woman being escorted forcefully into the building.

He felt dismayed. He would rather not have reason to deal with the place at all - but it was impossible to just walk by at the sight of her struggling Knowing what he did. Knowing what they'd do to her. Reluctantly, Sendoh stepped forward.

Holding out his hand, he stopped the two researchers who were holding her each by an arm, and demanded a report.

They glanced at one another – obviously this was not usual routine – but seeing the stripes on his collar, and the captain's sword that he carried at his waist, they explained.

A subject, they said. She was pregnant, they said. They had an interest in seeing how the conditions would affect the foetus.

Sendoh glanced at the girl. She looked sickly and malnourished, and was shaking with fear. Reaching out with a presumptuous finger he lifted her chin and examined her face. She was young, barely even twenty, with a face that had been beautiful before it had been marred by poverty. She had the same straight black hair and yellow-hued skin of most of the Chinese girls – except for her eyes. A bright, furious blue. Like butterflies.

Immediately those eyes fixed on him then with deep, ferocious hatred that hit him to his core. She snarled like a cornered dog and without warning shook her head free and snapped at his finger with her teeth.

Startled, Sendoh snatched his hand away and her chin dropped to her chest. Her eyes vanished from his sight below the fall of her long fringe. One of the researchers swiftly delivered a heavy blow to the back of her head in reprimand.

"Damn bitch!" he snapped at her. "I'm so sorry, Captain."

Sendoh clasped his hands behind his back, trying to reign in the hammering of his heart, staring at the girl as if he couldn't understand what he was seeing.

"Was there... something you needed, Captain?" the other reseracher prompted.

Sendoh hesitated.

He knew what horrors awaited her, but he had no authority over the research in this place. Unable to think of any excuse as to why he should detain her, he shook his head and stepped aside.

"No..." he replied dazedly. "No, you may proceed."

He watched them disappear into the building, and then closed his eyes with a sigh. To his surprise he saw, behind his closed eyelids, the hateful flash of her eyes. He shook his head from side to side, but the vision would not be dispelled. He opened his eyes again and realised that he could see her everywhere. That expression of utter hate watched him from around every corner, from between the leaves in every sickly tree.

He clutched the handle of his sword, feeling suddenly quite ill.

_It's not my fault_, he tried to reason. _There was nothing I could do._

But the deep discomfort that had been planted in his soul refused to be soothed by logic. He left the university quickly, his hands shaking.

Already perhaps he knew his life was about to veer dangerously off course.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Wow - I feel so greedy! So many reviews yesterday - thank you so much :) I'm glad you enjoyed a bit of Mitko fun :D Let's hope some Senru isn't too far behind!<p> 


	17. Rakan-Ji Temple - Late June 1943 -Part 6

**#16**

**Rakan-Ji Temple**

**Late June 1943**

He'd already decided he was going to do it. Not a conscious decision, perhaps, but a definite one nonetheless.

Rukawa had not arrived with Makiguchi that morning, and as a result Sendoh had spent most of the morning listening to his uncle's arguments which seemed to have taken on a far more threatening tone than when they'd first arrived.

Makiguchi, meanwhile, was refusing to concede. He remained calm and polite, but there was nothing about him that was obliging on the matter of the war.

For the first time Sendoh was beginning to see the similarities between Rukawa and his teacher. Their principals were unshakeable, even though often at odds with others. Not to mention, their stubbornness was bordering on infuriating.

_Don't_ _you_ _see_ _the_ _danger?_ Sendoh wanted to ask Makiguchi. _Do_ _you_ _think_ _your_ _golden_ _statues_ _will_ _protect_ _you_ _from_ _army_ _steel?_ _The_ _General_ _already_ _has_ _his_ _eyes_ _on_ _you,_ _and_ _his_ _word__ – __in_ _these_ _days_ _of_ _war__ – __rivals_ _that_ _of_ _any_ _god._

"Once again, I strongly advise you, Makiguchi-san," Toranosuke hissed through tight lips. "You followers look to you for guidance – you have a duty to protect them. You would not see them imprisoned as criminals, would you?"

Makiguchi's stare was firm.

"It is you who seek the harm the innocent," he replied unflinchingly. "Not I. That guilt must lie with you."

Sendoh left feeling rather frustrated.

He hurried to the mountain steps as soon as his uncle decided to break for the afternoon and stood at the base peering upwards, shielding his eyes against the midday sun. The steps seemed steeper than ever from this angle, disappearing up the mountainside and into the foliage.

_I_ _don't_ _know_ _what_ _it_ _is_ _I_ _want,_ he thought to himself. _If_ _it_ _is_ _his_ _respect,_ _or_ _merely_ _his_ _attention._ _To_ _hear_ _his_ _opinions._ _To_ _share_ _his_ _view_ _of_ _the_ _world,_ _or_ _to_ _teach_ _him_ _mine._ _But_ _this_ _way..._ he eyed the steps critically. _But_ _this_ _way_ _perhaps_ _I_ _will..._ _find_ _out._

He glanced around. There was no one nearby. And so, on that hot summer afternoon, he began to climb.

Unlike the main temple steps, these ones were rough and uneven. The stones sloped at various unkind angles, making the going hard on feet and ankles. But even the sloping stones were preferable to that ones that were broken or outright missing.

Many sections were treacherous with moss – slimy patches that threatened to send one tumbling. Brambles and vines encroached from the sides so that in places the path was no wider than a shoe. Sendoh's feet caught in the fauna if he should place them without caution.

At one point he looked back over his shoulder to observe the steep flight he was leaving behind him. There was nothing to break his fall should he lose his footing. Judging from the danger and the state of disrepair, it seemed that no one other than Rukawa used this path at all.

The climb alone would have been difficult enough without coping with his injured thigh. More than once did his leg give way, pitching him forwards so his knees struck the stone steps painfully and his palms became bruised and scraped.

After an hour of climbing, he stopped for a rest.

Though his feet were relatively cool within the shade, the sun beat down on his exposed head. He began to realise that he should have brought some kind of provisions with him. A flask of water, at least. He honestly hadn't anticipated the climb to be as long as this.

_I_ _underestimated_ _him_ _again_, he thought, wiping sweat from his brow.

He realised he would have to abandon any notion of returning before evening. It seemed his uncle would just have to do without him.

After twenty minutes of rest, he prepared to continue on. He hung his jacket from a convenient branch, thinking he'd collect it on the way back down. He also undid his collar, opening the buttons right front the front of his shirt and enjoying the air against his skin. Finally he rolled up his sleeves and the hems of his trousers and continued to climb.

His wounded leg seemed to have lost all strength, shaking uncontrollably whenever he put weight on it. But Sendoh Akira had survived much worse, and he was nothing if not hardy.

As luck would have it, the head of the stairs was only another fifteen minutes away. He came upon it unexpectedly, rounding a mossy boulder and emerging above the trees into a clearing.

It was a small area, a natural patch of level ground partway up the mountainside. Near to Sendoh was a small wooden shrine constructed of a gateway hung with thick rope that opened upon a thick scrub of trees.

_A shrine to the kami of this mountain,_ Sendoh assumed. It wasn't unusual to see such Shinto structures coexisting with Buddhist ones.

The existence of the shrine explained the purpose of the steps but not the presence of the boy, for the shrine was in a state of disrepair. Certainly it seemed Rukawa had not tended to it, despite his daily presence.

Sendoh shielded his eyes from the sun and looked curiously towards the outer lip of the clearing.

And there Rukawa stood, his bare toes curled right over the edge of the rock, sandals discarded in the grass some distance away. The wind was rustling up his hem and sleeves, and the loose fabric of the robe that he'd flung over one shoulder, causing his entire form to flutter like an illusion – to Sendoh's eyes quite alarmingly. He thought, for a brief and wild moment, that the boy intended to jump.

"Kaede!" he gasped aloud.

In hindsight, his sudden voice was probably the most dangerous thing to the monk's safety. It seemed the sort of scenario that might cause less centred folk to go tumbling in surprise. But Rukawa Kaede did not jump, or start. He waited a moment, opening his eyes slowly as if physically drawing himself out of some deep, centred place, and then he stepped softly backwards, away from the edge and into relative safety.

He turned around.

His hair had become tousled by the wind, long strands misplaced over his forehead and eyes. There was an unfamiliar flush in his cheeks, exhilarated, perhaps, by the force of the wind. His lips were curved gently downwards, his expression one of bemusement. He looked quite dramatic, Sendoh realised, standing at the curve of the mountain's view, almost on the edge of the world. Alone and somehow... magnificent.

Sendoh stepped forward apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Captain Sendoh..." Rukawa muttered, pushing his hair out of his eyes with the back of one hand. He stepped further away from the edge, towards Sendoh, his bare feet dusty on the dry grass and dirt.

Between them stood a large, bare rock. The boulder, the only one of its kind, was positioned a little way back from the ledge like a sentinel, or a seat. It seemed provident that it should rest in such an idyllic location and Sendoh wondered briefly if it had been placed there on purpose. Rukawa lowered himself to the ground where he sat with his back leaning against the rock and gestured for Sendoh to join him.

Sendoh looked around. This was, he reflected, the top of the stairs. Some sort of pinnacle. There wasn't much. It was a small clearing, hedged with trees and a dirt floor irregular with hardy grass and weeds. A few fallen branches and a scattering of leaves. There was the shrine, of course. Then there was the ledge itself, just a few feet away, formed by a sharp outcrop of rock. It was free from grass and bushes, roughly elliptical in shape, giving a stunning panorama of the valley from right to left. Its exposure, of course, contributed to the gusting wind that rose across its front, even on mild days.

Sendoh moved to join Rukawa, sitting beside him and looking outwards over the valley. As he stretched out his legs, a sharp stab of pain made him hiss. He'd probably pushed himself too far trying to climb up here.

Rukawa turned towards him in an instant.

"You're hurt."

Sendoh shook his head. "It's nothing."

Rukawa did not look convinced, but didn't press the issue.

Sendoh managed to crack a smile. "This is a very beautiful place. I think I can see why you like to come up here."

Rukawa turned his eyes back to the view and nodded silently.

Sendoh thought again of him standing still on the ledge's edge. One person surrounded by an ocean of a world. Embracing the wind that flew about him. _What_ _does_ _the_ _wind_ _tell_ _you?_ _What_ _does_ _it_ _whisper_ _in_ _your_ _ears?_ _What_ _do_ _you_ _feel,_ _in_ _that_ _complicated_ _heart_ _of_ _yours?_

"It feels so peaceful here," Sendoh continued after a moment. "Perhaps it sounds strange, but if I had a choice... I feel like I could just sit here forever."

In response, Rukawa lifted an arm and pointed towards the horizon. "Do you see that mountain?" he asked.

Sendoh squinted. There were a number of mountains in sight, but Rukawa was indicating the furthest one. It was little more than a distant purple shadow against the sky, visible only between the valleys of the closer ranges.

He nodded silently.

"That's the furthest I've ever seen," Rukawa explained. "Of all the far-away things in this world, that's my furthest. That mountain."

Sendoh furrowed his brow in confusion. "So... you've been to that mountain?"

Rukawa shook his head slowly. "No. I've only seen it from here."

In that moment of silence, the smallness of his world, his frustrations at being trapped, were never clearer to Sendoh. It was as if he had breathed in Rukawa's feelings, his emotions, and felt them settle in his soul like dust.

He turned his head only to find Rukawa staring at him intently. Those blue eyes were fixed on him, considering him carefully, as if every utterance he made had a deeper meaning. As if he were intolerably thirsty for the world that Sendoh knew. He seemed suddenly close, his skin, his lips, cheeks and nose and the fluttering of his fringe. Sendoh's eyes flickered over his features, finally meeting his eyes once again.

That stare.

He winced.

It stung. Every time he looked at him. Still.

He had to look away.

Rukawa turned back towards the view and Sendoh felt powerfully as if he'd disappointed him somehow. He kept his own eyes firmly on the ground, hardly daring to look up and see him... see_her_... all over again.

Beside him Rukawa opened his mouth to speak. Hesitated. Then rallied.

"I don't know what you have seen and done, Captain Sendoh," his words came in a rush as if he were embarrassed. "I don't know what makes you unable to meet my eyes. But I think I know enough to say that you are... a good man."

Sendoh's chest tightened painfully.

_He's_ _noticed_ _it,_ he realised unhappily. _He_ _knows_ _I_ _can't_ _bear_ _to_ _look_ _at_ _him._ _I've_ _offended_ _him._

He shook his head in dismay. He had no desire to hurt this strange, restless soul, but didn't know how to explain himself. Didn't know how to make him understand.

He took a breath.

"She had eyes... just like yours," he muttered quietly. "Blue, I mean."

_Butterfly_ _blue._

His voice was barely audible, but Rukawa tilted his head slightly in surprise.

"She?" he repeated. A pause, and then softly, "A... lover?"

Sendoh sighed and shook his head.

"No. I never spoke to her. I never even knew her name..." he took a rattling breath, "...I did a stupid thing." He ran an irritated hand through his hair. "But even then I couldn't... I couldn't save her."

There was silence.

Sendoh's hand strayed unconsciously to his wounded thigh, immediately regretting his words. He hadn't mentioned the incident to anyone. Sato and he were the only people who knew. He knew he shouldn't dwell on it, he'd tried to hard to push aside all his feelings of bitterness. But they persisted. All his anger and disillusionment. If not in his actions, still in his nightmares.

But there were many things to be thankful for, as he often reminded himself. He had been discharged honourably. He could still walk – sort of. The General had even given him this chance, this mission to negotiate with Makiguchi. Certainly things could have been far worse and yet he still felt unreasonably angry, still felt betrayed, still felt as if Sato should have killed him that day.

Rukawa's expression was of concern.

"There... are things we cannot control," the monk said finally. "Sometimes we must accept our powerlessness. We can do only what we think is right, and recognise that the rest is beyond us."

_Did I do what was right? Can I really call myself a 'good man'? I_ _don't_ _even_ _know_ _if_ _I_ _did_ _it_ _for_ _her_ _sake,_ _or_ _just_ _to_ _sooth_ _my_ _own_ _guilty_ _conscience_...

Sendoh lifted his eyes once again to meet that stare, like a mirror into his festering guilt.

_No._ _I_ _am_ _not_ _so_ _honourable._ _My_ _actions_ _were_ _selfish._ _All_ _of_ _it_ _is_ _my_ _own_ _stupid_ _fault._

He squeezed his eyes closed tight. It was painful. It was like a knife in his chest. And her _eyes_. Still watching. He felt as if he could never contain all this regret.

Rukawa's hand lifted, a delicate touch that cupped his cheek gently, smudging a thumb through a track of tears Sendoh had not noticed falling. When Sendoh opened his eyes he saw Rukawa's face closer than ever. Saw his sadness reflected there. His chest constricted painfully.

"I believe..." Rukawa muttered softly, his voice stolen momentarily by the wind only to be carried back again to wash against Sendoh's cheek.

"...there can always peace for those who wish to find it..."

His eyes shone like lamps, flickering candles in the dancing breeze. Sendoh felt his breath stolen away.

"...even for you..." he whispered, his head tilting at the last moment, bringing his lips within a breath of Sendoh's, "...Captain."

Their eyes slid closed and the wind pushed them, softly, together.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Not exactly satisfied with this. Probably needs some more tweeking. Usually I'd wait before posting it but... well... it's still a bit fun, I hope :) If you spot any rough bits or something grates on your nerves or pulls you out of the story at all - please let me know! I'll probably come back and revise this some time soon. Cheerios! :D<p> 


	18. Canton Province - March 1943 - Part 4

**#17**

**Canton Province, China**

**March 1943**

He'd expected to forget all about it within a day or two. He'd seen enough horrors that even the death of his friends no longer truly sunk into his comprehension. The girl would be no different. Just another regret to add to the long-ignored list. Another unfortunate he couldn't save

He was, however, quite wrong. Soldiers died. People suffered. But that girl had sunk like a thorn into his soul.

He saw her everywhere he looked. That expression of hate, so raw and so vicious, flickered constantly across his vision. It was as if she had cursed him. As if she was living in his mind. Two days passed. Then four. Then a week, two weeks.

In the middle of the night he would stare up at the ceiling and see her, and twist in his sheets in an unexplainable agony.

He had tasks to complete. He knew he needed to work on his strategies, plan how to reduce the guerilla attacks, how to increase security at the university, but she was there, at the edge of the room, in the corner of his eye, whenever he turned his attention to the plans.

Without Myagi's assistance, he now needed to pay closer attention to the little details of his company. He did not trust the competence of the new lieutenant yet. But she cursed things. She set off a bout of dysentery among his men. She turned the food rations rancid. She pushed over tents in night-time storms and sowed dissatisfaction among his soldiers.

And she was there, listening to him as he justified over and over again the existence of the university, the value of the research being conducted there, the necessity of keeping it safe, to men who listened to him in stone-eyed silence. Her eyes were under every cap, behind every fringe, her movements in every unsettled shifting of feet.

Her name, her unknown name, was signed the bottom of every note informing him of more deaths and more losses to the men he'd assigned to protect the place.

Fighting, battles, horrors, death, he could understand. Justify. Leading his company, even in terrible circumstances, he was prepared to do. Surviving was important. Eliminating the enemy was important. The glory of Japan was important.

But this... this was something else entirely.

She watched him every second of every day. Like he was going mad.

He began to remember conversations with his father from his childhood. Asking again and again why a soldier had to follow orders even if they were wrong. Not understanding the words his father had said. Being told _when_ _you're_ _older,_ _you'll_ _understand_.

He'd accepted it, yes. But could he say for certain that he'd ever really understood?

He woke up from his nightmares, saw her thin, starving body wrapped in his sheets and knew this was the line. No further.

He did wonder if he hadn't completely lost his reason. If the war hadn't finally affected him somehow. But the final realisation was that whatever punishment he might receive could not be worse than the torture of her hateful eyes in his dreams.

Knowing finally that he had to do... _something_.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Sorry for the delay! Please enjoy :)<p> 


	19. Rakan-Ji Temple - July 1943

**#18**

**Rakan-Ji Temple**

**July 1943**

Private Mitsui was waiting outside the lodgings when Sendoh returned one evening following dinner. He looked a little restless, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and Sendoh frowned.

He felt a momentarily flash of deja vu, Myagi's concerned face rising in his mind for a moment, but he pushed the feeling away.

"Report, Private," he ordered instead.

Mitsui saluted uneasily.

"If I may speak to you, Captain? Privately?"

Sendoh considered him for a moment - his unease and his anxious expression - before nodding and gesturing to the room behind them. "The Marshal is in the company of Makiguchi-san. The room is empty. You can speak there."

Mitsui followed him inside.

Sendoh sat down on the edge of his bed, there being no chairs of course, leaving Mitsui standing stiffly by the door. Sendoh lifted a hand expectantly, and Mitsui cleared his throat.

"I have been assisting the Marshal to send telegraphs to the General in Tokyo, sir," he said, keeping his nervous eyes on the ceiling and his back straight as a rod,

Sendoh lifted his eyebrows. It was clear from Mitsui's manner that whatever he was about to say was probably not meant for Sendoh's ears. He knew he ought to stop before Mitsui revealed something that was confidential, but somehow he couldn't resist hearing a little more. He nodded for him to continue.

"His reports regarding progress here have been... negative," Mitsui explained, "he has advised the general that Makiguchi-san is unlikely to cooperate." He trailed off uncertainly as if expecting Sendoh to make a comment.

"Continue, Private."

Mitsui's face twisted a little in discomfort. "I wouldn't have mentioned it, Captain, except that the most recent news from the General... well..." for the first time he lowered his gaze to where Sendoh was waiting expectantly and met his eyes. "He has ordered Makiguchi's arrest, sir."

Sendoh sighed in disappointment. He had known the General would not tolerate this song and dance for long. It was unfortunate that Makiguchi hadn't conceded, but the decision to arrest him wasn't all that surprising. Even if it was bound to have repercussions among his followers...

_...and_ _Kaede..._ he thought. _Kaede_ _will_ _be_ _furious._

_I_ _wonder why __the_ _Marshal __hasn't __told_ _me yet?_ _I_ _wonder_ _how_ _he_ _will_ _go_ _about_ _making_ _the_ _arrest?_ _Quietly,_ _I_ _hope._

"Um..." Mitsui hesitated. "There's more, sir."

Sendoh lifted his head.

"The Marshal has warned the General that the monks here have some... er... military skill."

Sendoh's eyes widened. "_Military_ _skill?_" he spluttered in amazement. "What military skill?"

Mitsui frowned uncertainly, "I'm not too sure myself. But the Marshal seems to expect significant resistance. He has asked the General to send a small troop..." he trailed off when he saw the black expression descending on Sendoh's face.

"A troop?" Sendoh thundered, standing up from the bed. "An armed military troop to put down a few monks in sandals? Are they raving mad?"

"I just thought... I thought you should know... sir. In case you wanted to... make some... arrangements."

Sendoh stared blankly at him for a moment, not seeing. _Arrangements?_

Then he understood.

"That monk," he said, immediately narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Kogure. What have you told him?"

Mitsui quickly shook his head. "Nothing, sir. He was already joining a group visiting the village at the bottom of the mountain for a few days. I just... encouraged him. They left the mountain this morning. I wanted to keep him away in case there's some fighting. I thought maybe you..." he looked nervous, "...would want to do the same."

Sendoh sat back down on the bed with a flump, rubbing his temples with his index fingers.

_Will_ _there_ _be_ _fighting?_ _Of_ _course..._ _if_ _a_ _troop_ _storm_ _the_ _place_ _isn't_ _it_ _natural_ _for_ _the_ _monks_ _to_ _resist?_ _They_ _are_ _peaceful,_ _but_ _they_ _are_ _not_ _cowards._ _And_ _Kaede..._ _Kaede..._

He groaned inwardly.

Kaede would fight back. He wouldn't let them take Makiguchi forcefully. A monk swinging a wooden pole facing trained men with guns... it didn't require much imagination to know how that would end.

_Should_ _I_ _warn_ _him?_ _Would_ _he_ _leave_ _if_ _I_ _told_ _him_ _to? Would he listen to me at all?_

He lifted his eyes. The veil of a seasoned officer obscured the panic underneath his surface. "Thank you, Private," he said, his voice distant and automatic, his mind awhirl with other things. "You are dismissed."

~tbc

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><p>ANs: I mentioned this on the fb group, but wanted to re-post it here in case anyone hadn't seen it yet.<p>

As you may know, Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) is just around the corner starting November 1st! It's a yearly challenge to write 50k words in 30 days. I take part each year and encourage anyone interested in writing to check it out! It's a super fun, casual and creatively frantic month.

This year I'm planning to do a series of shorter stories (x30?! Maybe 1 per day?!) and would like to ask you all for some prompts! I'm open to any pairings, scenarios, required lines, titles, song lyrics, crossovers etc. The more, the better! I'll even write scenarios from any of my previously used alternative universes (i.e. R+J Story, Boys Paradise, Thine Own etc) if you have any interest in events preceding/following the fics or from the perspectives of minor characters.

Got a song that you always thought would make a great fic theme? Tell me! Always wanted to read a fic where Aida says "I'll be back" Terminator style? Let me know! Consider it a 'free for all' request opportunity haha. All ratings are welcome from apples to lemons! I can't promise the stories will be any good, but let's have some bonkers fun this Nanowrimo season!

You can contact me in a billion ways (slight exaggeration) - post your prompt/request here on the Senru Only fb group, send me a fb mail, an email, or pm me on ffnet or livejournal. I'm trying to gather 30+ ideas so feel free to request more than once. Happy scheming!


	20. Rakan-Ji Temple - July 1943 - Part 2

**#19**

**Rakan-ji Temple**

**July 1943**

They lay shoulder to shoulder on the grass, naked to the sky. Sendoh breathed the wind, tasting it on his tongue as if for the first time. His eyes were wide. His soul wider.

It was the fourth time he'd climbed the mountain path, every time unique. But he recalled the first time with the most feeling. Every second of it with crystal clarity. He replayed it in his mind over and over, afraid he would forget even a moment.

Watching him peel off his robe, shoulders first, revealing white skin and firm muscles. Sendoh remembered that same body swinging his shajuko in combat and felt his mouth turn dry.

He'd been completely unashamed, guileless, pulling the cord free from his waist, letting all that simple fabric fall away from him.

Sendoh's uncertainly, his awkwardness, had bubbled through his veins. He'd watched, breathless. Half wondering whether he should be doing the same, removing his own clothes or, indeed, doing anything at all besides just staring in astonishment.

But he hadn't moved. Not until Rukawa was standing completely naked before him in the sunlight, embraced by the eager, dancing winds.

Sendoh had swallowed painfully.

"Is it... I mean... is this... okay?"

Rukawa had stepped up to him and knelt in the grass. "Why not?" he'd asked.

_Why_ _not?_

"The abbot..." Sendoh had managed to gasp even as the monk reached forward to confidently unbutton his shirt. "And... and..." he'd lapsed into silence as the fluttering in his stomach increased. "Kaede..." he'd almost whined.

It had occurred to him then how desperately he wanted this to happen. He wasn't even sure why he was trying to make excuses on Rukawa's behalf.

Rukawa had met his eyes and Sendoh had been utterly transfixed. Blue, but he barely noticed that any more. Blue, yes. But it wasn't butterflies. It wasn't rain and mud and death. It was Kaede. And her song had faded. Little more than a whisper. Not gone – never gone – yet somehow soothed. And there was Kaede, all Kaede, filling him until he felt there was no room for anything else. Lips bruised against one another in passion.

The wind had pushed them together. Closer and closer. Binding one another tightly in arms and thighs and tongues, while at the same time carrying away the rest of the world. All those concerns, memories, duties and rules. Sendoh felt like he was stepping through a door into Rukawa's world, for a moment seeing things in the same way – the pointlessness, the ridiculousness of those conventions and traditions. Why had he ever thought that the abbot's opinion should prevent him from this? The idea seemed like madness. What did it have to do with anyone else? This was a moment that was reserved for the two of them alone. No consequences. No rules. Just reaching out to touch his own tortured humanity; knowing his pain, his weaknesses and failings, and yet flinging them all aside and embracing something far greater. A step on a path to a larger world.

_I_ _am_ _weak._ _I_ _am_ _powerless._ _The_ _world_ _moves_ _without_ _me._ _But_ _now,_ _in_ _this_ _moment,_ _I_ _am_ _alive._ _I_ _can_ _reach_ _out_ _and_ _touch_ _only_ _what_ _is_ _in_ _front_ _of_ _me._

He'd grunted with his efforts, driving himself onwards eagerly. The sun had been hot on his back despite the wind. His movements had been punctuated with the clicking of the jade beads Rukawa wore around his wrists. But he was shaking with his desire for more. Closer. He wanted to be closer.

His fingers had curled into claws, leaving fierce red marks on that porcelain skin. But Rukawa had only embraced him harder, wrapping eager arms around his neck and holding him tighter, gasping in his ear in matching delirium. His to ravage and adore.

Yes, he remembered it well.

And now they lay still. The fourth day of their love-making. But the wind didn't die down. Sendoh felt it moving over the sweat of his skin and knew the sensations would never leave him. For those precious moments he'd thrown everything away, and yet somehow been a thousand times more aware, more himself, because of it. He wondered if this was how the monks felt on their long path to enlightenment.

He rolled on to his side and met blue eyes staring back at him.

_I_ _couldn't_ _save_ _her..._

That would always be true. But it wasn't everything.

No. Not everything.

He cracked a smile.

"You've had other lovers," he pointed out.

Rukawa's eyes didn't flicker.

"So have you," he replied.

Sendoh sighed and folded his arms behind his head like a pillow. "One or two," he admitted. "There was a boy I went to military school with. We bunked in the same room and... well..." he grinned at the memory, as the wind played about his fringe, "...we were just kids." He looked over at Rukawa once again. "And you?"

Rukawa mimicked his shrug. "One or two. Monks and priests visit from other monasteries and temples from time to time."

Sendoh couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. He was entranced by this monk's singular attitude. "Does the abbot know?"

"Probably. Makiguchi tried to talk to me about it once."

Sendoh faltered a little at the sound of the name, recalling Mitsui's warning just the other day. He almost managed to say something, opening his mouth in preparation to reveal the ugly, approaching truth. But at that moment, Rukawa sat up, his bare back flawless before Sendoh's eyes, and turned his eyes upon him mischievously.

And knowing the meaning behind his look, all thoughts of Makiguchi left Sendoh's mind.

~tbc


	21. Canton Province - March 1943 - Part 5

**#20**

**Canton Province, China**

**March 1943**

It took him a week to decide, finally, to be driven into action rather than madness.

He waited until evening was falling, and the setting sun had painted the sky a furious orange. It was easy to gain access to the university. The guards stepped aside with a salute at his greeting and the sight of his uniform. He walked into the building as if he knew what he was doing. He didn't.

He would save one girl out of hundreds. Why only her? He walked past dozens of the condemned, all just as innocent, but he sought only her with a sort of feverish madness.

_Those eyes_.

She was in none of the wards on the first floor, communal bed chambers where the patients were lashed into immobility with leather straps. He worried a little then, becoming more frantic – what if he was too late already? It had been a week. A week. Had that been too long?

He passed doors in the corridors, peering quickly through each one – realised numbly that the place was even bigger than he'd thought. A huge, writhing organism of carefully inflicted suffering. Lost, desperate moans haunted the spaces filled with sickened air. Occasional screams, like flickering forks of lightning flashed into being only to fade into half-imagined echoes and ringing ears.

He found her on the second floor. She was sleeping, her hair plastered to the sweat on her face, feverish and sucking on the air like a suffocating fish. Sendoh first tugged at the leathery tongs that kept her there, and then drew the ceremonial sword he carried to cut through them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a use for the thing.

When the passing doctors quickly came forward to question him, he snapped at them in his most authoritative manner, telling them he was under orders from the Major General. They appeared too nervous to ask more questions.

Then he slid his hands under her thin, shivering body and lifted her from the drenched sheets.

His breath rattled in his ears. Hers was too soft to hear.

She awoke, disturbed, and looked at him fearfully. Did she recognise him? She did not know what was going on. She tried to speak, but her Chinese words meant nothing to him. She seemed frightened. No doubt she thought he was trying to hurt her.

She seemed to weigh nothing as he carried her from the room like a groom with his bride. He had some wild idea that he could just pass her over to one of the vagabond Chinese who haunted the city streets, and somehow they would see her home.

After that, he didn't know. Whatever consequences waited for him, he didn't dare to think about it.

He made his way back through the hospital, slowed only slightly in his care not to jostle her too greatly, his grip on the girl firm and steady, though his heart was hammering against his ribs. He tried to speak soothingly, but wasn't sure whether or not any words came out.

It was too late to hesitate now. Doing this... just this... saving this one girl, would keep the ghosts away. Perhaps he would be able to claw his way back into competence, a more peaceful state of mind, the calmness he had lost. Yes, everything would be all right, after this.

He went rapidly through the front entrance, ignoring the nearby gaping doctor, and saw a familiar car parked in front of the university. The Major General already had one foot out the car door when their eyes met. Sendoh froze. The girl shifted with a soft moan in his arms.

Sato stared at him in confusion for a second, as if unable to understand what he was looking at. His stare roamed first over Sendoh's dismayed expression, and then moved to the limp girl in his arms. Then his eyes narrowed.

Sendoh looked quickly around, but there was no where to go.

The Major General snapped orders, and Sendoh didn't have time to put the girl down much less draw a weapon before the guards had grabbed hold of him. The girl was dragged out of his arms. The hot air was suddenly stifling. The evening shadows crept like vines across the tarmac.

The Major approached, but didn't bother to ask any questions. It seemed he knew what had happened. Maybe it had happened before. There was a look of intense disappointment on his face. Sendoh noticed it, and realised he hated this man. Hated him.

The soldiers forced the girl to her knees. Her face was sick and pale and full of desperate tears. She reached out with shaking hands to implore mercy, unknown words bubbling from her cracked, dry lips.

The Major considered her for a moment, before turning to Sendoh and reaching out. Sendoh instinctively tried to move away, but the privates who held his arms did not let him shift. Sato's eyes remained locked with his as he dragged Sendoh's sword from the scabbard at his waist. A cold, metallic hiss as the blade met the air.

_Executed by my own sword,_ Sendoh thought vaguely, taking a bracing breath.

He didn't mind quite as much as he had expected he would. Death awaited everyone, he reasoned. Compared to many, in recent months, a death like this was too easy. He'd take it willingly.

The Major readied the sword, testing it, feeling the weight with casual confidence. But his eyes were not on Sendoh. He moved with a swift and sudden thrust.

The noise of steel and bone.

The girl's blue eyes looked tearfully down at the sword through her gut. Her expression turned to confused amazement. She gave a half-hicupping sob. Then the Major pulled back and the sword came free, releasing a tumble of blood and guts into her lap. She looked up and opened her mouth as if to cry out, but with a final swing the Major decapitated her at the neck in one stroke, and all her words vanished.

Her wide blue eyes flashed skyward with each miserable roll of her head across the bloody ground.

Sendoh struggled to keep his feet under him as the Major turned to face him.

All at once he was blinded with an ugly fury. His tongue was babbling sounds, incoherent rage, though he didn't know what he was saying.

But the voice in his mind was clear. _Kill me_, it screamed. _Kill me, you evil __bastard_.

Major Sato considered.

"The Captain is delirious," he told the guards sternly, ignoring Sendoh's senseless and desperate screams. "Put him in a confinement cell. I'll deal with this in the morning."

They dragged him away.

~tbc

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><p>ANs: Well! It's been a week! You didn't ask, but I'll tell you anyway. I found out that I'm pregnant! Mwahahahaha. Expect updates to be more erratic starting from now and probably for the rest of my life (omg). Spent the week divided between going to see doctors and hospitals, going to work (yeah, still gotta do that, seems so mundane and menial now), and worrying about how on earth I can possibly hide my massive doujinshi collection from a child. Shit just got real. Yikes. I'll still write for nano but I have serious doubts about how much progress will actually get done haha x Starry<p> 


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